“I agree. What about Mr. H?”
“He wants me.” I could hedge and beat around the bush, but that goes nowhere.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I’m happy here.”
“Are you? Happy that is?”
“You’ve been kind to me when you didn’t need to be. Happiness comes in many forms. I’m content and grateful.”
“You never lie to me, do you?”
“I try my best to be honest with you. I told you I would stand by your side, and that is what I’m doing. Those men see it. They want it. Mr. H wants what you have. It’s why he wants me. He doesn’t understand the difference between forcing a woman to serve him and having one do so of her own free will. It confuses him and he covets what he doesn’t understand.”
“And what about Mr. S? He shows interest in you.”
“Mr. S is testing boundaries. He’s not interested in me.”
“You don’t think so? The way he looks at you…”
I place my hand over his. “He only looks at me that way to see how you react. He’s testing you. I’m of no consequence, and for that matter, he won’t be interested in your current selection.”
“Why is that?”
“He wants his slave unbroken.”
“That bothers you.”
“What I think is of no consequence. I said I would stand by your side. I never said I was comfortable with any of this.”
Our conversation is cut off with the arrival of the main course. Served by girls in training, they do their best to be graceful, but I sense stiffness, as does Tomas.
They’re all beautiful, plucked from their lives because of their grace and beauty. These girls are just a tease of what’s to come. They’re docile, any rebellion in them is long gone, beaten out of them through weeks of intensive training. But they’re still not ready to be sold. That doesn’t mean they won’t be used.
“Gentlemen.” Tomas grabs the attention of the table. Once all eyes are on him, he continues. “I have a treat for you tonight.” He gestures toward the girls. “After dinner, you will have an opportunity to choose who you want to spend the night with. Our selection is exquisite and the girls are willing.”
“And the price for this treat?” Mr. B asks. He’s a fat man, with greasy hair pulled over the bald spot on the top of his head.
“Complimentary.” Tomas settles back in his chair while I draw my shoulders back.
Tomas never gives anything away for free. Some of the girls gasp, realizing their fate. The reality of their situation is only just settling in. Whatever glimmers of hope and remnants of free will linger, they’ll be stripped of those foolish emotions after tonight.
“Now this is a treat. Does this mean we can touch?” Mr. B leers at the closest serving girl.
“No. And to make things interesting we will draw lots on who gets to choose first. The next man may choose a new girl, or steal from anyone who came before him. Each girl may be stolen twice, so plan accordingly.”
“And if our girl is stolen?” Mr. H joins in the conversation.
“Then you get to pick a new girl, or steal another, but not the one which was taken from you.”
“This sounds interesting.” Mr. H rubs his hands together while I fight the urge to rush out of the room and empty the contents of my stomach.
They act like this is a game, which it is. Tomas makes it one, but it’s no game to the poor girls who will be taken tonight.
Once again, that could be my fate. It can still be my fate. My exalted position is tenuous at best.
I spend the rest of dinner in relative silence, making small talk with Tomas and his guests.
The moment Max returns, the air shifts. I feel him when he enters. An electrical charge fills the air, crackling between us as he takes his seat. I should hate him, he’s one of the monsters, but my body doesn’t seem to know that.
That would be a lethal mistake.
Tomas repeats the rules to his sadistic game to Max. In response, Max lifts a single brow and shifts his attention to the girls. Unlike Mr. B and Mr. H, his gaze doesn’t linger. Instead, it’s as if he dismisses them completely. Is he not interested in a night of pleasure?
Why the hell do I care?
Because he’s ruggedly handsome. There’s a brutal beauty about him.
In the months of my captivity, I’ve seen a lot of guests. Most are hideous, inside and out. None have been remotely attractive. Max with all his hard angles, muscled frame, and mesmerizing eyes, fascinates me. He doesn’t fit the standard mold. Something is different with him.
Max catches me staring and wings up an eyebrow. The expression softens the hard lines of his face, revealing tenderness, concern, and undeniable interest.
Again, I come around to why he’s here. Women must flock to him. In addition to his powerfully honed muscles and the way he carries himself with absolute confidence, he brings undeniable charisma into the mix. Handsome, intelligent, massively built, he’s the epitome of potent, powerful male. It’s an intoxicating combination.
He’s every woman’s fantasy.
So why does he have to pay for sex?
I leave off the other things, like his clean, woodsy scent, and the way his voice rumbles and gets under my skin. How my gaze naturally gravitates to his, lingering longer than it should. Or the way his lips curve up, not quite into a smile, but rather a cocky smirk.
His dark hair curls at the ends, giving a tousled look, like he just got out of bed and only had time to run his fingers through his hair.
But then I remind myself he’s a predator. A man in a suit, he’s nothing more than a wolf in disguise. While I admire the beauty of his face and his muscular prowess, it doesn’t change what he is. Before the night is done, he will choose a girl, take her back to his rooms, and rape her. It doesn’t matter which unfortunate girl he chooses, he’s still a monster.
A prickling down my back makes me shudder and I lean back in my chair, folding my napkin over my lap. I pointedly make an effort not to look at him, and I don’t like the thoughts swirling in my head, the jealousy and anger I feel because it won’t be me.
Jealousy?
Anger?
This place is getting to me, making me think unthinkable things and desire the unspeakable. I’m slowly becoming a monster myself.
“Are you cold?” Tomas runs the back of his knuckles over my arm. His fingers feather over the goosebumps lifting on my skin, making them worse. Turning them vile with revulsion.
I hate his hands on me.
The air is comfortable, but far from cold. The air conditioners chug along, but they can only do so much to beat back the press of heat and humidity from outside.
“Just a chill.” I smile at him and wonder about my sanity. How can I be attracted to a man like Max? If that’s even what this is.
Speaking of Max, he watches me, like a predator fixed on his prey.
He wants me only because I belong to Tomas. I’m unobtainable, and therefore, the subject of his lust. His eyes blaze, hooded by desire. His thick lashes lower with a slow blink as the corners of his lips curl into a smug grin.
Dinner winds down as the men discuss their plans for the morning. A hunt is scheduled, pheasant or quail, or whatever kind of bird is hunted down here. Men with guns are not my thing and I pray Tomas allows me to excuse myself from that activity.