Last night, I found a full wardrobe in my closet. A wide variety of dresses, jeans, shirts, and sweaters, ranging from passable to things I wouldn't be caught dead in. Some outfits were a size too big, but whoever stocked them came close to getting my size just right.
I wrinkled my nose, shifting through the unwanted stuff illuminated by the skylight in the ceiling. Yes, the closet was so big it had two, putting even my old room at Dad's house to shame.#p#分页标题#e#
At last, I settled on something comfy, a long sleeved sweater with zebra stripes and jeans. All the clothes were made to draw attention, but I'd be damned if I was donning one of the short skirts or cleavage-happy things laid out in the front to tempt me.
It wouldn't work. I wasn't going out of my way to please my captor. The way my body reacted to him last night was still fucking with my head, leaving it spinning in a way I was afraid to understand.
A quick shower and a change helped sanitize my body and brain.
Maybe I could survive here, if only he didn't force himself on me again. I was starting to get it: this was a hostage situation, a war between rival enterprises my family had stumbled into. Whatever Dad did, I hoped it hurt the man who owned this house and his stupid cartel, mafia, whatever the hell he was running.
I never wanted any part of this. I never wanted to be stolen away from everything I'd known, dragged into a dungeon. And make no mistake, this house was a prison.
They never tell you crystal chandeliers and stucco can bind just the same as shackles.
Prisoner or not, I was going to do my damnedest to make do here.
You're a Rossini girl, dammit. Nobody pushes us around. I don't care who this man thinks he is or how much he wants to swing his fists and his dick.
He won't break me. Never.
I walked to the door, refreshed and determined. I was half-expecting it to be locked when I turned the knob, but that wasn't the case. I easily stepped out into the long elegant hall, heading for the staircase leading to the main floor.
“Good morning, pet.”
I jumped when I was almost to the master kitchen. I hadn't even seen him in the huge room with the fireplace I'd just walked through. Spinning, I saw him at last, sitting like a lion in a huge leather chair in the corner.
David's hands were folded, accented by bright silver cufflinks, all attached to a fine gray suit. The metal bullets on his sleeves were as slick and sharp as his eyes.
I gasped when I saw him. Finally.
He was as handsome as I'd feared, but there was so much more than that. Several dark stripes curled up his neck from his collar, ebony swirls like black cobras protecting him. Every part of him was sculpted stone, and a noticeable three line scar marred one cheek, as if he'd been slashed across the face by a tiger.
What was a proper greeting for a man who twisted contrasts like putty, lust and fear and revulsion in one painful lump?
“Come here. Sit down over there.” He pointed to the empty chair across from him, identical to his. “There's something I need to show you.”
He reached into the seat next to him while I sulked over, easing into the seat. It was just the right fit for a big man like him. I wasn't the skinniest girl or the shortest, but I still felt like a midget in the cold leather.
David reached out, pushing a slim marble folder toward me. When I didn't take it right away, he jerked his hands, causing it to flap loudly in the air.
“Take a moment to look it over carefully, babe. There's no going back after this. Your old man's signed it.”
It was a long contract. I started to read the first few words, something about a marriage endorsed by the state of New York. There was something about a daughter who wasn't fully of sound mind too. At the bottom was a notary's stamp next to three signature lines.
One was David's, huge and imposing as the rest of him. Next to it was my father's familiar curly signature. The blood was already throbbing hot in my temples when I got to the third signature. When I saw the bad imitation of my own writing, I nearly fainted.
“Cost an arm and a fucking leg to pay off the asshole who got that thing ready for us. Good thing me and your old man are rich. State officials are greedy motherfuckers when it comes to risking their necks to endorse fake marriages.” He paused, crinkling his lip in dissatisfaction. “No, that's not quite right, is it? There's nothing fake about this shit. The whole damned state recognizes you're my fucking bride, babe, and so does your old man. Last one to find out is you.”#p#分页标题#e#
My vision contracted. The room blurred until I couldn't see anything except his large, devilish shadow sitting there. My spine gave out at the same time as my legs.
I hit the floor and barely caught myself. He was on me in an instant, pulling my limp body up by the shoulders, cradling me to his chest.