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My eyes flew open, focusing on the blurry gravel.
“There we go,” he growled. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
He kneeled next to me. His shoes came into view first, the leather dark and black and shiny. I was terrified of looking up, my body shaking as I stared at my own reflection in his brogue shoes.
“Eyes up,” he said in a rough voice, and I shut my eyes again, shaking my head and whimpering against the tape. “I’m not going to ask you twice. Look at me. Now.”
I shivered as I let my eyes fly open again. He was so close I could feel the hint of his cold, minty breath on my face.
I looked up, sealing my fate. It would be my undoing.
I whimpered through the tape and he smiled at me as I stared openly.
He was beautiful… painfully so.
Dark hair, dark eyes, scruff on his chin. He was handsome in a devilish way, the kind of man you’d kiss behind your mom’s back and never tell your daddy about.
He reached for my mouth and tore the strip of tape off with a single yank.
I started screaming on cue. His hand met my face with such brutal force I rolled onto my back.
“No one will hear you,” he said matter-of-factly. “No one that would want to help. But I’d like you to get over the screaming habit as soon as possible, please. I don’t like drama. I like pretty, obedient little girls.”
“I thought you liked broken things,” I rasped, my voice feeling ragged and raw.
He laughed in my face, getting up from his kneeling position. My heart was pounding at the sight of him.
“You aren’t broken yet,” he told me. “But I’ll make sure you are before long, little one.”
Finally, I risked looking around us.
We were parked in a round driveway, the car he’d driven us over in a showy BMW. Ahead of me, there was nothing for what felt like miles, the road stretching out endlessly and finally being swallowed up by the fog that lay low above the ground. But once I turned my head, I could see what lay behind us, and it took my breath away.
There was a large topiary along with a marble fountain in the middle of the driveway. It looked like something out of a film. Beyond it, there was a house that looked more like a castle. It was enormous. Like a place a girl like me could only dream of. I’d never been able to afford even a one night’s stay in a place like that.
“W-where am I?” I asked shakily. The place felt like a ghost town. There wasn’t a soul in sight, but just then, I realized there was an alien sound coming from behind the house. “And what’s that sound?”
“You don’t recognize it?” he asked me, chuckling. “It’s the beach, little one. It’s the waves crashing down on the shore.”
I realized I smelled it then, the thick scent of salt and water in the air. I’d never seen the ocean.
“We’re…” I whispered. “We’re not in London, are we?”
This elicited another laugh from him.
“No,” he said simply. “We’re far, far away.”
“How long was I out for?” I demanded.
“How long do you think?” His tone was teasing, and I hated him for it.
“I don’t know,” I grunted. “A few hours? Just tell me.”
“A day and a half,” he said with a pleasant smile. “You slept through the plane ride.”
I felt tears pricking my eyes. Angry, resentful tears for this man and what he’d ripped away from me. I had no memory, no recollection of the past day and a half. Just like my freedom, he’d taken that away too.
“I hate you,” I growled at him, the need to hurt him reverberating through my body. “I’m going to kill you.”
He looked right into my eyes and muttered, “You have the wrong guy, little one.”
He hauled me up and threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. I screamed in protest, but it didn’t help one bit. He carried me towards the house as I struggled on his shoulder, kicking him with my bound legs, my tied-up hands raining helpless blows all over his back. None of it helped. None of it even made an impact.
I realized with a start he looked different than my memory remembered. When he’d taken me in that alley, he seemed broader, huger. Now, he was still an intimidating figure, but not nearly as frightening.
He was all man, his face painfully handsome, like that of a model. His cheeks were carved out of marble, chiseled and sharp. He had a beard, thick and dark just like his unruly hair. He looked like a handsome savage, and I hated him with every part of my body.
We reached the house a few moments later, and I realized with a start we were no longer alone. So, I did the only reasonable thing to do. I screamed my head off.
