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But she didn't want to run now. It was as if the gold band around her throat tied her to him more powerfully than any actual chain could.
Claire got out of bed for the first time without an escort and walked down the stairs into the main part of the room. The fireplace crackled quietly with a small fire that was running out of fuel.
She went into Ari's walk-in closet. Would he be upset with her if she put something of his on? She couldn't bring herself to wander around his house naked. It didn't matter that he'd seen everything.
She found a crisp white button-down shirt hanging in the closet with about fifteen more exactly like it. She put it on and buttoned it up, leaving a couple of buttons at the top open. The shirt was huge on her. It felt strange now to have any fabric brush across her skin beyond that of the sheets and comforter in her bed.
She used the bathroom and brushed her teeth and stopped to admire the collar in the mirror. Then she went to see if he'd left the bedroom door unlocked. Would he be upset with her if she left his room?
The door to the bedroom easily clicked open in her hand, and she crept out into the hallway. Even though she'd seen parts of the house in disconnected puzzle pieces, she hadn't seen this. On one side was nothing but windows, letting the bright sunlight in, streaking patterns and prisms from the intricately designed glass across the floor and onto the wall.
Exquisite chandeliers hung in the massive high-ceiling hallway and cast even more tiny rainbows across the wall. She shouldn't be awed by his home. If they were to put their bank accounts side-by-side, she probably had as much money as he did.
But she'd never had the knack for this much style. You could have a lot of money and still not own the most beautiful things. Beauty wasn't always about money. It was about taste, style, talent, art. And Ari's house was a work of art.
When she reached the front door, she paused and glanced around furtively, but she was alone. There was a keypad beside the entry, much like the one she'd set up to keep Ari in the cell. There was no place to input a code, only a fingerprint.
Claire tried to turn the knob and felt the resistance. There was no visible lock or keyhole in the doorknob. Bending down to peer more closely she could see deadbolts between the small crack in the door—or they would be deadbolts if there were any locks she could physically turn.
She wondered idly if she could break the glass? But just looking at the windows along the hallway, she knew this wasn't the kind of glass she could ever shatter. This wasn't the glass in a normal person's home. With this much security, none of it would break, at least not by anything she could do.
Claire let out a long sigh. She didn't have to berate herself for not trying to escape. Ari's careful security would keep her inside. She never could have predicted that the thing that would finally fully break her was pleasure and kindness.
Further down the hallway she heard voices. One of them she recognized as Ari, but the second was an unknown male voice. Her heart hammered in her chest at the awareness of an unfamiliar male. She thought about turning and running, but instead she edged closer, her curiosity too overwhelming. The other voice felt like a threat because it came out of a man, and so many men had hurt her.
But she couldn't resist the urge to assess the threat for herself. She eased along the wall and stopped just outside the door to listen. The door was cracked open a few inches. The two men were talking about some sort of project and plans and a deadline. She peeked through the opening, just a quick look inside.
“Hello,” the strange man said, looking up at her. He was older than Ari but attractive in a sort of devastating way.
She leapt back into the hallway and was about to turn and flee back to the white room when her master's voice stopped her.
“Claire? Come here.”
His tone was firm, and she knew if she ran he'd be very upset with her. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and pushed the door open, grateful his shirt was so big. It was practically a dress on her. Still she was aware of how naked she was underneath his shirt. Her nipples pebbled out against the linen. She was about to turn and run—consequences be damned—when Ari's ice blue gaze snared hers.
“Claire,come here,” he said again, more firmly.
He wore the same shirt she did. They were a matching pair. Except he only had one button undone and wore a pair of jeans.
She eased into the room. Ari sat at a large drafting table. The stranger stood on his other side. There were what looked like blueprints spread out across the table. Her hand drifted to the gold collar around her throat.
“Kneel,” Ari said when she reached him.
Her breath caught in her throat. Claire's gaze dropped to the ground, feeling the stranger's eyes on her. She felt the panic edging in, the tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “But...” she whispered.
“Now,” Ari commanded. It was a quiet command, but it carried so much weight.
She looked into his eyes and didn't speak another word in protest. His expression was absolutely serious, and she still didn't know if she was supposed to be wandering around the house like this. She was angry at herself for thinking these things. She found herself grateful again that she'd tested the bars of her cage, because otherwise she'd regret not trying to escape when she'd had the opportunity.
At least she'd tried. It was the most important thing.
The tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she got down on her knees next to him and stared at her hands, her breath coming in short, shallow pants. She wished her breathing was quieter. She wished it wasn't so obvious just how upset she was. What would the stranger think about this?
Ari's hand was immediately in her hair, petting her. “Good girl,” he said, his voice going back to that softer place that soothed her and made her feel safer than she should feel in captivity.
“Were you trying to escape?” he asked. His tone was casual, like he was making a joke, but they both knew he wasn't. Surely he had to keep up the pretense for the other man, that this was all some game. She hoped he had to keep up that pretense, anyway. The possibility that the stranger would approve of what Ari was doing would be so much more dangerous.
“No,” she lied.
