Page 15

Cara

I watch him from the shadows—broad shoulders hunched in front of the fire, scotch in one hand, and who knows how many secrets buried deep within him.

There’s something magnetic about his silence. Like he’s wrestling demons... and barely winning.

I move slightly, and the floorboard creaks below me. His head snaps around at once, and I draw in a sharp breath when I feel his gaze settle on my body once more.

"What are you doing?” he demands, rising to his feet. "I said you could come out of your room in the evenings, not that you could hang around watching me while my back is turned."

"I’m sorry," I blurt out. "The fire just looked really cozy, and I— I wanted to join you. I just didn’t know how to ask."

His eyes flick to mine for a moment and then he lets out a sigh and gestures for me to take the seat opposite him.

"Fine," he mutters. I move to the seat, brushing past him, drinking in the scent of him for a moment before I tuck my legs up and under me on the chair. The warmth of the fire crackles beside us, filling the room with the scent of burning wood; it’s almost peaceful, or, I guess, it could be, if it weren’t for the circumstances.

He has been allowing me a little more freedom. Perhaps he’s hoping that it will keep me from running again, if I am not hidden in that room twenty-four-seven. But what he doesn’t know is that this little taste of freedom that I have gotten, I need more—and, most of all, I need him.

I watch him for a moment, hands clasped on my lap.

The fire reflects on the planes of his face, casting shadows beneath his strong jaw and his sharp cheekbones.

He raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, and I’m reminded, all too clearly, of how good it felt when his mouth was put to work between my legs.

I want to feel his lips on me again, more than anything.

I want to feel him touching me, his hands all over me, taking me, and making me belong to him.

"What even is this place?" I ask as I gesture around the cabin, breaking the silence between us. He looks over at me.

"What do you mean?”

"I mean, why do you have access to this cabin in the middle of nowhere?"

"It’s a safe house."

I almost laugh.

"Well, I don’t think it’s very safe," I shoot back. "Or much of a house, for that matter."

The corners of his lips twist up into a smile, for just a moment. He doesn’t want to admit it, but that thought amuses him.

"Just somewhere we keep to bring people who need to lay low."

"You get a lot of that, in your line of work?”

"More than you’d think."

I twist a strand of hair around one finger, trying to think of some way to keep this conversation going.

I need more from him. I need to be with him, in all the ways I have never been with anyone before.

In the time since our brief sexual encounter, my mind has been filled with him, and I know that I need to take advantage of his presence here before I am returned to my father once more.

Because my virginity is one of the few things that I have to offer—but one that I can get rid of at any time, if I just find the right guy.

I know that it’s one of the things my father has made a big deal of to Mario.

I overheard them talking about it a few times, how sweet I am, how innocent, and I’m sure that Mario wants to be the one to take that from me.

But I have other plans. And they are sitting right in front of me with a scotch in hand right now.

"Do you come here a lot?” I press. "Just to get some space, I mean..."

He shakes his head.

"I don’t need space. Not from my family."

He speaks with a certainty that catches me by surprise, to hear someone who obviously cares so deeply about their family surprises me. I’ve never heard my father talk that way about me, and I’m not sure I would have been able to muster the same enthusiasm when it came to him, either.

"What about women?” I remark, lightening my tone. "You ever come here to get away from a one-night-stand gone wrong, or something?"

He smirks slightly. This seems to have gotten under his skin.

Does he have some kind of reputation with women, or something?

I know so little about this man, so little about the person he is outside of this place, that the thought of him with someone else briefly sends a startle of jealousy through my system.

Which is crazy, because we have hardly done anything, and yet. ..

"Why are you so interested in what I get up to with other women?” he asks me, his voice steady, his tone pointed.

He can tell what is going through my head, even as I try my best to cover it up. Suddenly, his gaze feels almost exposing, like he is looking straight through me, deep into my head.

"I’m not," I shoot back, a little too quickly. "Just trying to make conversation. I told you, I don’t like being on my own, especially not after?—"

I stop myself. The unspoken words hang between us. He knows as well as I do what I am referring to, but I press my lips together. I am not going to be the one to come out and say it, not when he’s the one who stopped us.

"After what?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"You know."

"Act like I don’t. Tell me."

I fire an angry look at him.

"You’re really going to play it like this?” I demand, exasperated. "I mean, we did all that, and then you… and then you pulled back when you found out I had never done it before."

"Because I’m not taking your virginity under these circumstances."

"Why not?” I ask him. "I want it. And you want it. I could tell by the?—"

"Cara," he cuts me off. "I’m not discussing this with you. I told you, I’m not going to... be with you like that."

I rise to my feet. I don’t know what I am doing, but I can feel my head spinning, the thrum of my heart pushing me forward. I don’t want to give up on this, not so easily, I don’t want to lose my chance to have him.

When all this is over, I will never have a chance to see him again, and that thought twists deep in me. Suddenly, being apart from him feels impossible, despite the fact I have lived my entire life up until this point without knowing that he exists.

"I asked you, why," I remind him. "And I deserve an answer. Don’t you think?”

He glowers up at me for a moment, but, even in the midst of all of that, I can see something, something he is trying his best to hide. He wants me. He needs me. And, no matter what he says, he can’t pretend otherwise.

"You really want the answer?” he asks me, as he rises to his feet, staring down at me as he places his glass aside.

I nod, a sudden rush of fear heating my chest, but I push it aside.

I deserve to know why he is so unwilling to do what I want.

I know that he might have kidnapped me, that this hardly started in any way that people would think was safe or appropriate, but that doesn’t mean I am willing to let it slip through my fingers.

Sometimes, the most unconventional attractions are the best ones.

"Because you have no idea what’s going on here. Not really. And I’m not going to sleep with someone who doesn’t have the full picture."

"So tell me," I plead with him. "Tell me what’s going on. I want to know. I really do. I can’t just?—"

"You don’t," he growls. "Trust me, you don’t."

He goes to sit back down again, but before he can, I grab his hand, forcing his attention on me once more.

"Please, just listen to me," I beg him. "My father... my whole life, I haven’t been part of things. I have been on the outskirts of his world, but he has never let me any closer than that. He never would, not as long as I’m his daughter. I can’t stand feeling like I don’t have a say in any of this, in the life that I have.

I need to know what you know. I need to.

I want to be able to make this choice to be with you, but you’re hiding and I can’t do it anymore. .."

The words spill from me in a rush I can barely control, and I can see something shifting as he stares at me, his hand still wrapped around mine.

His fingers interlink with my own, and my breath hitches in my throat.

Even the slightest touch from him feels electric, every hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

I want him. God, I want him. I have never wanted anyone the way I want him in this moment, and I know that I am willing to listen to whatever he has to say to explain his reluctance.

Because I doubt it will matter enough for me to pull back, anyway.

"You really want to know?”

His words are careful, almost calculating. I can tell that he doesn’t want to tell me what’s really going on here, either because it makes him look that bad, or because he thinks it will hurt me that deeply. I have no idea which it is, which to expect, but I nod.

"Yes," I whisper. "Yes, I really want to know."

He draws his gaze away from me a moment, the flames flickering against his handsome face. I can see a furrow in his brows and tension in his jaw, as though he is trying to think of any way he can get out of this.

"Your father," he murmurs, finally, turning his attention back to me. "Your father is involved in stuff that’s way darker than anything the rest of your family has ever been in."

My heart flips.

"Darker like how?” I demand. My voice is shaking slightly, and I pray that he doesn’t notice it, though I doubt that I am going to get that lucky. He pushes a hand through his hair.

"Darker like... like he buys and sells people. Women. Uses them."

I frown. This still isn’t making sense to me.

"I don’t get it..."

He grits his teeth slightly.

"For sex," he snarls out, at last. "He buys and sells people for sex."