Prologue
Enchanting.
And delicate. She wasn’t the prettiest woman he had seen, nor was her body curvaceous.
No, she was uniquely peculiar. A dangerous kind of seduction. And his addiction.
She was like a flushed glow with her fair skin. Wavy and wild chestnut hair swayed from her slim shoulders to rest on her small waist and plump breasts he dreamt of every night. Petite, that little thing was barely five-three, yet she was a fevered dream he couldn’t escape. From where he sat gazing at his little doll, he had the perfect view.
His dirty secret was smiling and giggling over the compliments she had been receiving all night long from filthy rich men who eyed her. His blood boiled. Just a few more minutes. Her hands moved as she explained the painting of her own creation on the wall.
He knew she could feel his gaze on her, and that satisfied his soul. He knew she was an anxious one, pretending to be calm. He knew that no one noticed the slight shiver of her fingers and the occasional bead of sweat glistening on the back of her neck. Slender and slim. He wanted to wrap his hand around it and know if his hold would choke her. Last night was not enough, and his beast was running wild, growling to claim the vixen.
She was talented, really talented.
She sold three of her masterpieces for more than fifty thousand in her first bidding. Would she notice that all three of her paintings were bought by the same person?
He wondered if she’d appreciate the special present he had planned for her that night.
A motion of his hand, and the man standing just behind him handed over an empty check and a pen.
He signed the check and kept the amount unfilled. He watched as the assistant walked the check to the woman in the center of the crowd. That would be one of his gifts to his little vixen.
After tonight, he wouldn’t return here, nor would she.
After tonight, she would be dead to the world, relying and depending solely on him. Only him. He felt himself getting hard and reached for a sip of champagne.
Soon. In a couple of hours, she would be under him, in his darkness, in his mansion. Caged and protected, just like a secret.
His dirty little secret.
CHAPTER ONE
His Claim
My fingers trembled as I held the check, and the smooth paper almost slipped from my grip.
One hundred thousand.
More than I’d made that night.
It was definitely mine. I checked the immaculate writing showing my name again: Celestine Devereaux.
Tearing my gaze from the check, I glanced around the room. All my eyes caught were fancy-dressed people, chatting and laughing. Faces blurred together—some familiar, others strangers. A woman smiled at me warmly, and a man raised his glass in a passing greeting.
I forced a small smile.
But none of them seemed to claim ownership of this... odd gesture.
My chest tightened. I’d already sold three of the pieces I’d brought here, so why would someone pay me extra? And no name on the check.
I clutched the check closer to my chest, and a flush crept up my neck as I felt eyes on me. My eyes darted from face to face.
“Celestine!” A familiar voice broke through my racing thoughts.
I turned to see Grace. My insides uncurled at the sight of one of the few people here who felt like a friend.
“Look at you!” Her emerald dress shimmered, catching the light in her eyes. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight. Everyone’s talking about your work.”
