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He’s never lied to me.
Never cut me off from the outside world.
Never hurt me, at least not in any way I didn’t long for.
I stare at the bruises on my wrists. I remember the fever-fall of desire as I balanced on my toes, reaching, stretching, waiting for release in the form of a single sharp command.
Trap accepts me as I am. Heseesme.
I nod.
“I need more than that,” he says.
I find the strength to meet his gaze, to bind myself to his wild green-brown eyes. “I promise,” I say. “I won’t run away.”
His smile is something magical. It washes away tension. It drives away fear. It’s a promise and an answer and a reason to believe there’s actually good in the world.
He reaches for something on the corner of his desk—a plastic card strung on a lanyard.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Your Diamond Freeport ID.”
“Why do I need that?”
“You’re the freeport’s latest hire. You’re on the books as a fine arts specialist.” He picks up a pen and scribbles something on a sticky note. “I set your salary based on public figures from the major auction houses. Your compensation package includes a one percent bonus on each work you sell, retroactive to the Monet sale, plus you’re eligible for annual bonuses.”
I look at the number he’s scrawled. It’s easily double what I could hope to earn as a senior professor of psychology at one of the finest universities in the country. Plus the commission on the Monet… That’s over three quarters of a million dollars.
“I can’t—” I start to say.
“You can.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.”
“I won’t—”
“You will.”
He believes I belong here. He wants me to stay. And I can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be, anyone I’d rather be with.
My fingers close around the ID.
“I should mention…” Trap says, his lips quirking in a tiny smile. “Your job description is somewhat unconventional.”
I match his growing grin. “How unconventional?”
“Let’s just say there are ‘other duties as assigned.’”
“That’s a dangerous loophole to leave open,” I say. “Can I get any specifics?”
He leans back in his chair and unfastens his belt. “I’ve got one specific in mind right now.”
I want to play. I want to make him happy. But I don’t deserve the sort of joking fun he has in mind.
But Trap understands. He knows me.
