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I stare for so long that my eyes begin to blur.
Your subject has chosen to wear gold.
She’s invited me to catch her. To claim victory with my hands on her body.
I pinch my nose in shock.
Why?
An apology. I’ve ignored my new wife for three weeks, and this is her olive branch. I wish I were a big enough asshole to deny her. I wish I respected us both more to say no.
But I don’t, so I accept the invitation without blinking, then stand and rush the few feet over to where Leonardo sits with a dancer perched on his lap.
“I’m needed in Chicago. You’ll have to finish up for me.”
“Your manners are impeccable, Diego. How could I possibly say no?” He’s pissed, but he taps the naked ass of the stripper and sighs sadly as she retreats. “You really are a horrible friend,” he says. “I have no idea why I say yes when you beg me to hang out.”
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
ALESSIA
The night feels darker. The stars hide themselves from sight. The moon is cut like a thin crescent, and I stare up at it, trying to find my bearings.
Our hunt has only just begun, and a sheen of sweat clings to my skin.
At first, I was nervous he would deny me.
Now, I’m skittish with the unexplored notion of who Diego is when you remove his chains.
The gold is an apology, sure. I’m removing my armor so he knows he’s not the only one bared in this relationship. I’ve cornered myself into a trap with a man I know little about. But I’ve made my bed, and I need to find a way to invite my husband to lie in it with me without expectation or judgment.
The gold is also for me. When I found myself embroiled in The Quest over ten years ago, I believed I did it for Charles. I was trying to please him. I wanted him to love me, whatever that looked like. But as I grew comfortable in the forest, Charles ceased to exist among the trees. A power I have to push forward in my everyday life engulfed me with the simplicity of a red cape. I knew I was being hunted, butIfelt in control. I was the shepherd, my hunter nothing more than a sheep.
Until Diego.
His dark mask and elusive style of hunting changed The Quest for me. Ilongedfor him to find me. I wanted the snippets of interaction we shared, even if it skirted on breaking the rules. The way he moved, the way he watched me, the way he hunted… It was the first time my control between the trees was questioned. I wasn’t a sheep, but I was no longer a shepherd. The game morphed into something else.Iwanted something else. I craved the day he stepped into the forbidden and claimed me because I wanted to be caught.
By him.
Onlyhim.
I move quietly, moving my sight between the ground and the immediate vicinity. He’s not close. I’d feel him if he was. I’m alone, and I’m disappointed and elated all at once. I keep moving slowly. My feet are light, and the fresh air tickles my nose. My hair brushes my naked shoulder blades, and goose bumps break over my skin.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous to see Diego. The last interaction we had was in the presidential suite of the Four Seasons. The hotel had thought they were doing us a favor with the rose petals and champagne. But my new husband took one look at it, and the color completely drained from his face. He masked the shock and discomfort with anger, but I saw the panic in his eyes. Not only had I tricked him into marriage, but he believed I expected him to offer me something he couldn’t find within himself. His words hurt me, but I also understood the pain of being launched out of your depth and into a situation that strips your control.
A twig breaks to my right, and I pause, turning my head in that direction. Quiet screams at me, and I roll my shoulders. I’m statue still, afraid to breathe too heavily in case I give my position away. I wait for a full minute before relaxing my stance. I move forward but stop again when heavy footfalls sound to my left. I frown. Diego always hunts quietly. Like a panther, he only gives away his position at the very last second. I shrug away my intrusive thoughts. I’m wearing gold. We’re married. The game might be completely different now in all aspects.
I squint into the darkness, making out the silhouette of a body standing beside a tree.
I open my mouth to speak, but it catches in my throat when the breeze of someone’s breath touches my neck. I stumble forward and turn quickly.
A man I don’t recognize smiles down at me. His hair is reddish brown and slicked back against his scalp, his eyes staring a little too intently at the silk slip that covers my body. Grabbing my cape, I wrap it around my body to shield his leering gaze.
“Who—”
The man from the shadows steps closer, and my head turns left and right, trying to keep my eyesight on them both.
“Who are you?” I manage to say with a voice strong enough to camouflage the way it shakes. “This is private property.”
