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He held out a towel to me, and I grabbed it and wrapped it around my body quickly. The ache between my thighs made my legs shake as I stood. He chuckled.

“It’s a good thing your wrists aren’t hurt, kitten.”

“Why?”

“We’re not going back to the basement.”



Gav

She dried herself off quickly, then knotted the towel under her armpit. Her body was wonderful, the curve of it under the terry cloth. I licked my lips as I thought about how she would taste.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked. Her voice was trembling, but there was still a hint of desire in there, as much as she tried to hide it.

“You keep asking me that. Does it really matter?”

“Of course it matters,” she said.

“This entire time in the bathtub, you were talking about how life doesn’t matter. How boring it is.”

She bit her lip. Oh, my. I would have to kiss her right there. I wanted to bite her lip, too.

“I don’t want to die.”

“I don’t want to kill you, kitten,” I said, smiling kindly, or so I hoped. “Behave, and I won’t have to.”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kat

Would he do it? Was he going to kill me? Dizziness overtook me as I stood up from the bath, the heat turning my head fuzzy.

His hand clamped over my wrist, and I followed limply as he led me back into the bedroom. My eyes lingered on my bra lying on the bathroom floor. If only I’d used the razor when I’d had the chance. I wouldn’t make that mistake again, I decided. I only hoped I had the chance.

Leaving me next to the bed, he opened his closet and pulled out an armful of clothes. There must have been a half dozen different dresses, and an equal amount of silk lingerie.

“Here,” he said. “Try something on.”

“Did you get these for me?” My fingers stroked the fabric of the top dress, a satin gown that looked more expensive than my last car. Beads glittered across the bodice. The dresses looked to be my size. Had he bought them specially for me? There was no way. But he looked up at me with a bright look in his eyes. Hopeful. It made me feel ill.

“I want you to wear something nice tonight,” he said. “Something pretty, like you.”

“I’m not pretty,” I mumbled.

“You are very pretty,” he said dispassionately, as though correcting me on a fact.

“Which one do you want me to wear?” I asked.

“I don’t know what color you would like best,” he said. “So I got a few.”

He certainly had. The second dress was a scarlet red sheath that felt even silkier than the first. And there was a whole pile of them here.

“I… I don’t know.” He had me completely confused. Threatening to kill me in one breath, then offering me these presents in the next? Was he dressing me up so that he could cut me to pieces? It made no sense. But then again, neither did anything else he had done with me.

“This one,” he said, pulling out a long strapless green gown. The fabric was gauzy, slipping through my fingers as he laid it in my arms along with a hanger of black silk lingerie. “And these.”

“I—thank you,” I stammered.

“Go try them on,” he said.

I stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, locking it. I exhaled.

Now. It was my chance. I grabbed up my old underwear and bra and pulled the razor from its hiding place. I set it on the counter. I would have to try to kill him now. I couldn’t have planned it better. He would be distracted.

I tugged on the lingerie. The bra was a smaller band than I normally wore, but the cup size was half a size larger. Surprisingly, it fit better than my normal bra. With shaky fingers I tucked the razor inside the lingerie. I didn’t bother slitting the fabric to hide it inside. If I was going to do this, I needed easy access to my weapon.

My weapon. Jesus. I was actually going to do this.

Sliding the green dress over my shoulders, I smoothed down the fabric. My cleavage peeked out from under the fitted bodice, the curves casting soft shadows on my skin. My hair, half-dry, curled over the back of my shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the white bandages covering my arms and hands, I would have looked like I was going to an executive cocktail party.

I opened the door and found Gavriel sitting on the bed in a clean shirt and pants. He looked up at me with such awe that I began to tremble. His eyes swept down over me, and I swear that he could see my soul. I worried that the razor was obvious, that the outline would show through the fabric. No, of course it couldn’t.

The way he looked at me, though... it was as though he was more open than ever. And what was hidden behind the mask scared me even more: he desired me.