by Quin Zayne
A woman’s murmur reached her, but she couldn’t make out the words.
She didn’t dare look in the open window to see what he was doing. The structure in reach of her hands, like the others, had no glass, but netting helped to keep out mosquitoes.
“Soon.” Damon said.
Her first thought, that he had a mistress in the village, made her squirm. But that seemed off. Nothing about him struck her as miserly. The hut didn’t look like the accommodation of a billionaire’s mistress. Her face burned. Her suite did.
If there were other applicants to be his doll on the island, they might be in the villa, or another building.
“Ah, you found us.” Damon stood next to her.
“Oh!” She jumped. How did he appear like that?
“Let me walk you back, if you’re ready. I can give you the guided tour. There will be plenty of other opportunities for you to see the boat. Spoiler: It’s well guarded because of pirates, so not amenable to stowaways.” He laughed, as though it was a joke. “This is my friend Nicki, a talented nurse and our prized teacher. You two should become acquainted. Nicki this is Rose, my guest.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Nicki brushed a strand of stray hair off her forehead. Her welcoming smile reached her eyes.
The young woman had an appealing face, yet she was no beauty. Her simple, baggy shirt and pants and the brown hair tied back in a ponytail betrayed no vanity. It was her energy and bright eyes that made her attractive.
A gold and white dog wrapped herself around Mandy’s legs, closely followed by a jumble of puppies tumbling over each other across her feet.
“Aww!” Mandy crouched down, forgetting to be Rose, graceless and uninhibited in the simple joy of the dogs’ greeting. One of the puppies with a blaze on its chest licked her hand.
“That’s Kia, the bold explorer of the litter.” Nicki patted the mama dog’s head.
“They’re wonderful dogs.” Recalling her role, she rose and put on her doll face.
“If you’re not too busy, Rose, come down in the morning. I’ll introduce you around and you can help with the delivery. We do all our stocking when the boat comes.” Nicki radiated health and enthusiasm.
“I’d like that.” Mandy glanced to Damon to check if she was free to accept.
“Go ahead. It will be good for you to have something to do away from the house.”
“Great. I’ll see you in the morning then, Nicki.”
It was an unexpected treat. She wasn’t to be completely isolated here. If Damon was some kind of psychopath, he wouldn’t want her socializing. Although, maybe he felt like he owned everyone on the island, so nothing she said to anyone mattered. It seemed he was trusting her, though.
If she was determined to do so, she might find a way to get a message off the island. She’d watch for opportunities, in case she needed a way to escape. Always know where the door is, her dad used to say.
Her eyes misted. She let her hair hang over her face. Alright, now. Calling on her model training, she straightened her back and smiled.
Damon waved to everyone as they headed out of the village. People seemed to like him. She took that as a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t a monster. It was hard to read people, though. She was unfamiliar with the culture, and he was a wealthy outsider, so that skewed things. How many people anywhere would treat a man as powerful as Damon Karl with open dislike?
He could squash anyone without expending any effort. Including her.
Matching his pace, she strove to maintain her smile. The morning respite from the heat was already ending. The sun blazed, ratcheting up the temperature. The heat made her skin prickle, and her hair hung lank. It was difficult to look like an ideal doll in a jungle sauna.
“You look good, Rose. The fresh air suits you. I’m glad the outdoor clothes fit. Don’t think I expect you to wear decorative fashions all the time. You can wear whatever you want in the house, too. I’m not entertaining any heads of state this month.” He laughed.
She wondered if he usually entertained heads of state. He seemed more the recluse type.
Who would set up a compound on a remote island if he wanted to have a vigorous social life with high-profile people? It struck her that he put a lot of effort into making himself inaccessible. Suspicion nagged at her. Why would he go to so much trouble? What was her part supposed to be in all of this?
Her self-consciousness suggested this was a place to hide her away until she was socially presentable, if ever.
Damn it. She had to stop undermining herself. It was an ugly old habit. Grief pulled the rug out from her life. She needed to move on. In San Francisco, she’d had her college courses, a new life, now she’d lost all of that.
Swatting a mosquito, she checked the trail ahead for hazards. Walking with Damon felt safer than walking alone. He knew what was poisonous. She could at least continue her studies in the library here, the old-fashioned way. She wished she could enroll in an online university, but the prohibition on Internet nixed that. It rankled that Damon had communications but made it off limits to her. She’d already lost count of how many times she reminded herself he didn’t like to repeat himself. As much as she hated having no email, no search engines, none of the sites that formed part of her life—tough. No way she was going to rock the boat. Maybe some day. Dr. Laszlo was right, if she earned Damon’s trust she might get privileges. She still had her phone.
“I’m glad about meeting Nicki and having the chance to help at the clinic. That’s the first thing I thought about when I reached the village.”
“Excellent. It’s good to have useful things to do. Avail yourself of the library all you want.” He checked her face from under his thick brows. “We may have gotten off to a bad start. This isn’t a punishment. I have rigorous demands, but making you miserable isn’t part of the plan.”
“That’s good.”
“You’ll be fine here. You’ll make friends, and in time, you can accompany me to the mainland. The island is remote, but we aren’t isolated. You can meet the boat with Nicki every week if you like.”
“I’d like that.” It would be a chance to see different people, maintain some perspective. For days, it had been her and Damon in a bell jar, attended by invisible servants.
She hadn’t missed that he’d prevented her from meeting the boat this week, though.
“I’m not as bad as you seem to think.”
She ignored the bait. He seemed too tuned to her thoughts for comfort, no way she’d encourage him. “Getting out to the village helped. Thank you for that. I’ve felt so cut off here, completely isolated. I’d never thought about how much I depend on the Internet. I’ve never lived without even a phone. It’s—difficult.” Her eyes misted. She missed Ken most of all.
“Oh, it didn’t occur to me how it would seem to you. I’m not terribly social. I forget other people are. The lack of cell service doesn’t bother me at all. This refuge is an ideal place to be free of my family and everyone else. No one has access to my island unless they already lived here, or I handpicked them.”
“Oh.” She noticed he didn’t mention the satellite service. She wasn’t about to call him on the omission. Let him think she had no clue.
“You looked surprised. I suppose you think I’m a bastard, but I didn’t evict anyone when I bought the place. That’s not the kind of person I am. This island is home to people whose families pre-date mine. I’ve taken care not to encroach on the village and on sacred areas.”
“That does surprise me.” She shook herself. The man kept her in such a welter of emotions, ranging from rejection to heat, she’d lost all perspective, and manners. Manners mattered, they were part of the job. “I’m glad to hear it. There’s a sense of peace in the way of life here. It would be a great loss if the traditions ended.”
“I agree. It’s not only the island itself that appeals to me, it’s the culture, the people, the whole way of life. Aside from medical supplies, lighting, screens against disease-carrying mosquitoes,
and the clinic’s refrigerator, I’ve taken care not to introduce outside elements, especially Western foods. All over the world, where refined foods, excess sugar, and other unhealthy low-nutrient products replace indigenous diets, preventable diseases rocket. Instead, I’ve modified my diet closer to theirs. I’m grateful to my local cook for helping me feel years younger.”
She examined his face, but couldn’t guess his age. He said he’d be the youngest company president, but that didn’t mean anything. Men in his dynasty might rule for decades like supreme court justices.
“Good for you. Most people become more indulgent rather than less so.”
“I’ll admit to studying longevity. Calorie reduction, and of course, avoiding crap marketed as food, are keys. It’s a fascinating field of study, one that’s finally seeing results. Dr. Laszlo is a master of anti-aging practices. His methods go beyond cosmetic procedures, and incorporate local wisdom. I’m not going to give away his age, but you’d be stunned.”
“Oh, I already guessed you brought me to Shangri La.”
He laughed. “That’s good, Rose. Shangri La. The tropical version.” His lion eyes searched hers. “You’re remarkable. I’m grateful every day that you’re here.”
He pulled her close and kissed her with hot intensity that took her breath.
She came to gasping for breath, bouncing against his shoulder, feeling the heat and moisture of his body seeping through her clothes.
“Take it easy, Rose. You passed out from the heat.” Damon’s strong hand held her securely, and his voice rasped with stress. “The villa is right ahead. I’m taking you right up to your room to cool down. I want you to take a siesta. No lessons today.”
The concern in his voice melted her. Content to allow him to take care of everything, she wasn’t sure when she began to trust him, but she did. She slipped back into the darkness, hoping she’d wake up to him kissing her some more.
More, Sir, I want some more.
“Meet me in the library tonight,” he whispered, as though he heard her thought.
Damon’s Need
Walking to the library took her longer than usual. She’d aimed to be early, because the preparations with Annalise had unnerved her. Something major was happening. The attendant who looked so much like ‘Rose the doll’ always made her look her best, but the attire for tonight was unprecedented in its elegance and expense. The value of the items on her body—she couldn’t begin to calculate it. More than her previous annual earnings by more than she could imagine. She touched the earrings, the necklace.
Her fingers trembled on the doorknob. She stood there, composing herself. Her upswept hair, the lilac sheathe dress and matching high-heeled sandals, the exquisite, no doubt real sapphire and blue diamond set Annalise put on her as she stared in shock—. She was confident she presented herself as the doll he desired. Still, she hesitated, barely managing to swallow past the lump in her throat. Something momentous was about to happen, she could feel it.
Glancing down at the showpiece silver sandals with tiny chain lacings that crisscrossed up her legs, the corset’s compression and her lack of panties made her acutely conscious of her lack of panties.
When she headed to the drawer for them after Annalise dressed her, the woman shook her head. It hadn’t been an oversight. He intended her to feel bare and vulnerable.
Holding her head high, she opened the door.
The moonlight silhouetted him in the window, catching his strong profile and glints of silver in his scruff. He hadn’t shaved. Maybe he wanted his beard back. That made him more human. She gave her most radiant smile.
He gave a low whistle and his smile reached his eyes, creating crinkles there that she wanted to kiss.
She wanted—she wanted to run her lips over every part of him.
At least she met with his approval, at last.
She whistled playfully at him. He stood there scrumptious in a formal black suit with a rosebud in his lapel. Rubies shined from his tie tack and cuff links.
“Come to me, Rose.”
In her most delicate walk, not a strutting catwalk stride, but a walk of surrender, she went to his side.
The fountain cast diamond water drops in the silvery light. The jungle swayed like a breathing thing in the hot wind out there.
All her senses keen to him, she inhaled his scent. Her mouth watered.
“So beautiful.” His fingertips stroked her from the inside of her wrist to her shoulder. “You please me, Rose.”
“Good. I meant to do that.” She gave him a saucy smile.
“You’ll be by my side as much as I require. We’ll have a public courtship, and you’ll become my intended bride in the eyes of the world. As my fiancee, glowing and devoted, you’ll be deeply in love with me.”
“Oh. I will?” she blurted. “This is all so sudden.” She attempted to sound arch like a movie heroine, but her voice shook.
She imagining him as an exotic beetle pinned to a board, one of the iridescent ones that was fascinating as long as it wasn’t crawling anywhere near you.
“Yes, you will.” He ran his finger down her arm.
No doubt it fell under obedience in the contract. If he had any idea of the hurt she felt… Pressing her lips together, she drew a long breath and then forced her mouth to soften. Rose is submissive to his will, she repeated to herself like a mantra.
He’d changed her so much already, what was a demand that she be in love with him on top of all the rest?
It was a hell of a lot to ask, that’s what it was. The superficial stuff, okay, she could do those things. She’d come out of this with perpetually perky breasts and butt, a smaller waist, fuller lips. She’d look like the most famous twelve-inch fashion dolls of all time. But her heart, he didn’t own that, not even for a million bucks, mister.
She teetered on the verge of telling him so, but took a deep breath. She’d kept her cool with stupid clients, and stupid bosses before them, and with obnoxious, grabby creeps in her modeling days. There were things she steeled herself to get through to get the money she needed for survival. This was no different.
Keeping her eyes on the window and using her hair as a shield against his probing eyes, she made her breathing even. This gig had upgraded from body-mod to acting job. She could do that. The insolent bastard probably had no idea of real love. She’d freaking fake it. He wanted his million bucks worth, okay, ‘Rose’ would deliver. She’d keep watching videos of US first ladies who’d perfected the ‘I adore him’ face. She could do that.
She glanced at him.
He was grinning.
She gave a sharp nod, as though in agreement. She sensed her discomfort pleased him. He seemed more thrilled by her resistance and grudging compliance than if she’d been eager to play the part of besotted fiancee.
Damn him. He was a freaking sadist. She recrossed her legs, her panties creeping against her sensitive bud. Being aroused pissed her off more than his smugness did. She hoped he couldn’t catch her scent.
This was outrageous. His confidence made her pivot from turned-on to annoyed.
In flashes, he struck her as the most powerful man she’d encountered and made her melt. Just as often, he struck her as arrogant and insufferable, the kind of romance hero you want to kick. When you weren’t yelling at the heroine to get the hell away from him, because he was a pathological, over-controlling sociopath.
Get out of there, he might have bodies in his basement.
He cleared his throat and pressed his fingers together. His knuckles went pale under his tan. “My need for you goes even deeper, and so does your role with me.”
“Oh?” She arched a brow. Her heart raced. Finally, he was getting to the point of all this.
“My last meeting with the family was a disaster. It put me in a bind, put everything at stake. My position in the empire, my plans for my wildlife refuges, my entire future.”
It took all her will to keep from frowning. Smooth face. “What happened?”
“They picked a bride for me. The Karl empire decided whom I’d marry. They presented their demand at a family dinner after my father’s last heart attack. They expected compliance. It wasn’t a matter for discussion. One of my few triumphs over them was my refusal. The price of that is I must present my own bride before the year is out.”
She dared to say it, because his obsidian eyes demanded that she say something. “Me.”
“You. My doll. My Rose.” He caressed her cheek.
Her breath caught. She made herself hold still.
His hand left her as unexpectedly as it arrived. His gaze returned to the waves.
He cleared his throat. “Make me proud. Everything depends upon the Karl dynasty accepting you.”
“Yes. I will. I promise.” Her words fell.
She ran her hands over her hips encountering the boning beneath the flawless lilac silk. A sapphire ring winked on her finger. This meant she’d wear his ring. But not for real.
The thought that Damon’s family must be worse—more demanding—than him, boggled her mind. Her challenge increased horrifically. It was one thing to play a game with a single man, to engage his passion and needs, another to take on an entire—hostile—monomaniacal family. The pit of her stomach clenched.
Study. Study. Study. Later, she’d listen to the voice tapes to practice speaking the way he desired, and watch more First Lady videos to practice her ‘I adore him’ looks in the mirror. She couldn’t change the pressure descending on her, so she’d cope with action.
The negligee billowed around her as she rushed up the stairs.
She slowed her steps. Rose wouldn’t rush. This was her life now. She doubted old-money women arrived anywhere out of breath. Maintaining a facade in front of the servants, and the cameras, seemed a good idea. Make composure a habit, that way she’d increase her odds that it would remain with her under the fire of multiple Karls. She shut her eyes and tripped, grabbed the banister. This was a nightmare. Being perfect enough for Damon strained her to her limits. Next, he expected her to perform this monkey dance for an entire family of exacting Karls. Ugh.
