I need her to get out as soon as possible.
“Yes, Sir.”
Yes, Sir.I can’t wait to hear those two words come from Emma Lia.
Soon.
Very soon.
4
Emma Lia Grant
Beinga cheat isn’t the only thing that I’m good at. I also know how to pick a lock. And I popped this one with a pin from my hair only a few minutes after Tristan Broussard left.
I quickly found out that he wasn’t lying. There’s something else keeping this door closed. Something that I can’t get to on the other side. And I’m running out of time. He’s going to move me from this place soon. And that can’t happen.
I’ve ransacked the room looking for anything I can use to hurt him.
An ink pen. Maybe I can stab him in the eye.
The lamp. It’s solid. Maybe I can slam it over his head. Or use the cord to choke him.
The mirror. I could break it. Slice him with one of the shards.
I’m lying on the bed thinking of all of the ways that I could attack him when I hear a noise on the other side of the door. Sounds like the slide of some kind of surface bolt. That comes as no surprise.
I sit up and watch him come into the room, and I’m reminded of how big he is. How muscular. How fit. And I reconsider all of the ways I could attack him.
“Good morning, Miss Grant.”
“Nothing good about it if you ask me.”
“Did you not sleep well?”
I’ve been kidnapped. This isn’t a fucking vacation. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t sleep at all.”
His eyes roam downward and then up to my face again. “I see that you didn’t shower or change into the gown that I left for you… after I specifically told you to in the note placed on the bathroom counter.” He looks annoyed. Good. “I wanted to see you in it when I arrived this morning.”
I’m sure that he did.
I found the ivory silk gown and matching thong not long after he left. Along with the note.
Emma Lia,
From now on, you’ll wear only lingerie that I choose for you. Or nothing at all. For tonight, wear this.
—Tristan
“When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.”
This man is a stranger to me. Why would I follow a demand like that from him?
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think that I’m going to do something just because you tell me to.”
He stalks toward me, and I scramble off the side of the bed to get away. But he’s faster than I am. His hands catch me around the waist, pushing my back against the wall. Using one hand, he grasps my wrists and holds my arms above my head. “You are going to shower and put on the gown that I left for you. And you’re going to do it promptly because breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes.”
I do something that I’ve never done to any human being in my life: I spit in his face. “I will not, and you can’t make me.”
