I remember the big deal Stonehart made about precision the night I met him in the restaurant. He told me seven days when he left, and seven days is what he will hold me to.
I fully expect him to arrive at midnight.
The last time I saw him, he left by way of the door. I sit facing it with my back against the marble pillar, and begin my wait.
***
It’s been hours since nightfall. My eyes are drooping shut. My head keeps falling forward. Each time it does, I jerk back up, refusing to give in to sleep.
The anticipation is killing me. When will Stonehart come? What will he want? How will he react when he sees me?
Those thoughts threaten to take me down a slippery slope. I shiver and rub my arms, not wanting to let my imagination give way to fear.
***
I wake up with a jolt. The early rays of the sun fill the room.
Immediately, my eyes focus on the other person present. Stonehart is standing at one of the glass panes, facing away from me. He looks absolutely striking in a crisp beige suit. He’s holding a clear goblet of wine behind his back.
My mind races and panic sets in. How long has he been there? Oh God, how long has he been waiting?
Stonehart glances over his shoulder a split-second after I wake. “Oh. Did I startle you? By all means, take your time.”
I scramble up, straightening my clothes in the process. “Jeremy,” I say, flustered. “You should have woken me.”
“I couldn’t do that,” he mocks. “You looked so beautiful asleep.”
I have no idea whether to take the comment as a compliment or jeer.
“Don’t worry,” he continues, turning toward me. As he walks closer, I notice the fine lines around his eyes. Though the suit looks freshly pressed, the shirt underneath is wrinkled. His tie is loose. I wonder absently if he’s been working all night.
“I am not angry with you,” Stonehart tells me. “In fact, I have something for you. A gift.” He stops in front of me. “Lilly. Hold out your hand.”
I remember what he said about the consequences of misbehavior. I don’t know what those are, but I am not keen on finding out. I lift up my right arm and extend it to him.
He cups my hand gently between both of his. His grip is firm yet tender. A small gasp escapes my mouth at the warmth I feel around my fingers.
I’ve thought of him as this horrible monster for so long that it’s a shock to realize that warm blood runs through his veins, like mine.
He smiles at my reaction, then strokes my fingers with his thumb. That small gesture is so endearing that it frightens me. It feels like the caress of a lover, not a captor.
Stonehart slowly brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. The hairs on my arms stand up. I suppress a shiver.
Dammit, how can my body react to him this way?
“I am pleased,” he says softly, his deep, angelic voice lifting my soul, “with the way you have improved your appearance since my last visit. So, I brought you this.”
One of his hands reaches into his pocket, and he pulls out a small velvet box. I see the word Buccellati emblazoned upon it in fine, silver lettering.
“For you,” he says.
“What is it?”
“Open it, and see.”
I accept the little box. My fingers tremble as they run over the sides. I open it, and stare.
Inside is a beautiful diamond ring. It catches the light and scatters it into millions of different rays. I’ve never seen anything like it.
“Why?” is all I manage.
“As a token of my appreciation,” Stonehart replies. I reach out hesitatingly with my thumb and stroke the diamond. I don’t quite believe it’s real. “You might think of it as… a token of good behavior. Here. Let me.”
He takes the box from my hand and picks up the ring. I hold my hand suspended in the air as he slides it over my ring finger. It fits above my knuckle like a dream.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I like it very much.”
“Good.” Stonehart smiles. “I am pleased.”
At that moment, I catch a dangerous glimmer in his eye. It makes me take an involuntary step back.
“Lilly.” Stonehart emphasizes my name as his eyes pierce into me. “Every good deed deserves a reward.”
My heart starts racing as I realize what he means. I’ve been preparing myself for this, but actually going through with it… it’s a different story. The look on his face tells me exactly what he wants.
His hands jut out and clasp my shoulders. He presses down, forcing me to my knees. “Consider this,” he says, unzipping his pants, “…a small taste of things to come.”
His hand twists hard into my hair and he jerks me to him. “Be a good girl, now, and don’t bite.”
***
I splash my face with cold water again and again, trying to erase the memory of what just happened.
The minute Jeremy’s pants came off, he became… an animal. I could feel him channeling all his suppressed rage into me. He didn’t care if I choked, didn’t care if he pulled my hair so hard it was almost ripped from its roots. All he cared about was getting his pleasure, showering me with his release, and then… turning around and leaving.
I cringe as I try to wipe a string of semen from my hair. Having it touch my skin fills me with disgust. I toss the soiled paper napkin into the toilet and press the flush lever with my toe.
Feeling slightly cleaner, but no less used, I drag myself to the powder room to take in my reflection.
There are a few popped blood vessels in my forehead from when he wrapped his hands around my neck and cut off circulation. I can cover those up with a modest brushing. My eyes are rimmed red from the tears that ran down my face. I check the drawers for some Visine, find it, and put a few drops in each eye. Stonehart said to expect him again today, and of course, that means keeping up appearances.
I set to it.
***
I prop myself up against the countertop when I’m done. It’s amazing how much a little makeup can transform a person’s appearance.
I look as radiant as ever.
I hold my shoulders high and waltz out to select my evening attire. When Stonehart left me, I was a huddling mess on the floor. When he sees me next, he will find no sign of that woman.
Determination to see justice done keeps my spirit from breaking. Stonehart wants to prove to me that he owns my body. I will let him indulge in that fantasy.
This is only day one.
Chapter Six
I come back to the sunroom to an unexpected surprise. The door leading outside is open.
For a moment, my brain cannot comprehend what this means. Am I allowed out? Is this another so-called “token of good behavior”?
Only after grappling with those thoughts do I notice a dining table being set up by the same elderly woman who cared for me that day a week ago. She stops what she’s doing when she notices me, and smiles.
“You are looking the picture of health this morning, Miss Ryder.”
I blink, surprised to be addressed by anyone other than Stonehart. I am so used to being forgotten. Old habits die hard, I guess.
“Oh,” I stammer. “Thank you.” I take a few careful steps toward her. “I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”
“It’s Rose.” She smiles again, then turns her attention back to the table.
“Rose,” I mumble under my breath. It’s amazing to be talking to someone other than Stonehart. “It’s nice to meet you, Rose.”
She makes a noncommittal but friendly gesture toward me without glancing up.
I walk a few more steps toward her. “I was wondering, since you left the door open…” I eye the tray of dishware standing outside, “…if that means that…” I trail off, not sure how much to say.
“Oh!’ She stands straight and puts her hands on her hips. “Actually, Mr. Stonehart did ask me to pass a message onto you. He said, ‘Nothing has changed.’
Now,” she laughs, “I won’t presume to know what that means, and it’s certainly not my intention to pry, but I suspect you have some sort of agreement with him? Maybe this has something to do with that.”
She winks at me, cheerful as a honeybee. “He also told me to make sure to always keep that door closed, but it was so stuffy in here when I came, I thought a little fresh air might do you good.” She smiles. “Don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes,” I whisper, astounded. Fresh air? Is it possible that I have found an ally in this woman?
I can hardly believe she is the person who regarded me with such disinterest a week ago.
“Do you mind?” I ask, gesturing to the door.
“By all means,” she says. “Be my guest.”
I walk up to the door and put my hands on the frame. A draft lifts my hair around my face. I inhale deeply, loving the scent of the ocean. I haven’t tasted fresh air in God knows how long.
It feels like an enormous breach of protocol to be doing this. But I am not breaking any rules, am I? And knowing that I am feeling the wind on my face—something Stonehart had no intention of allowing me to do—is an encouraging boost to my psyche.
Stonehart does not control as much as he thinks.
I wonder how far I’m willing to push this time. I look down at my feet, then edge them forward a few inches. My toes hang over the threshold.
I know the collar tracks my position. As long as my head stays inside, I shouldn’t be in any danger.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, then stick one foot out the door.
A great thrill shoots through me when my foot touches the cement walkway outside. I shiver and pull back quickly. One taste of rebellion is enough.
I walk up to Rose. I see her hide a small smile as she keeps her eyes pointed downward.
“Are you setting up for me and Mr. St—Jeremy?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers.
“He didn’t tell me he was coming for dinner.”
“At six o’clock,” Rose confirms.
“Hmm.” I have hours left yet. With nothing else to do, I ask, “May I help you?”
Rose looks at me. A kind, motherly smile graces her lips. “I’d like that very much.
Chapter Seven
Some hours later, I’m sitting alone at the table, looking over the beautiful water, when I catch Stonehart approaching from the corner of my eye. I stand as he enters the room, and only sit back down when he takes his chair across from me.
“Good evening, Lilly,” he greets me.
“Good evening, Jeremy,” I reply.
“I see you were waiting for me. That’s good.” He takes a small sip of water. “I hate it when it’s the other way around.”
“I promise, that won’t happen again.” I offer a sickly-sweet smile.
“Good.” Stonehart nods. He leans back and drapes one arm over his chair. “You look beautiful tonight, Lilly.”
His voice is completely sincere. It takes me by surprise.
“Thank you, Jeremy.”
“The color of your dress brings out your eyes,” he observes. “I am pleased you took the effort to find suitable clothes.”
“It’s not hard when I have such a generous selection at my disposal.”
Stonehart nods in approval. “I have to say, your behavior is a pleasant surprise. I was expecting more… defiance… from you.”
I smile at him sweetly. “Why would you expect defiance, Jeremy? You provide me with everything that I need.”
He smirks. “Yes. You might say that.” He glances over his shoulder. “Shall we eat?”
On his word, a young man in a tuxedo bustles in from the sitting room. He wheels a tray of food with him. Delectable scents waft from the covered platter.
He sets up the table with practiced efficiency. Stonehart does not acknowledge him until he’s done, and I take his cue. We both wait in silence.
When the young man is finished, Stonehart gives a curt nod of dismissal. The man bows, turns, and walks away.
When we’re alone again, Stonehart smiles. “How was your day?” he asks.
I stare at him as my brain goes blank. I nearly forget myself enough to let my jaw drop. How was my day? Is he fucking serious?
“Lilly,” he notes, “it’s customary to reply to a polite inquiry at dinner.”
“It was fine,” I sputter, shaking my head. “How was yours?”
Stonehart’s eyes narrow. The movement is so slight it’d be imperceptible to most people. I pick up on it. I know better than to let my guard down around him. Not when so much depends on his moods.
“Need I remind you of the rules governing your behavior?” Stonehart asks, his eyes growing hard. “Rule three, in particular: You are not allowed to question my desires. Questions pertaining to your situation are prohibited,” he quotes.
My stomach instantly twists into a knot. “No, Jeremy, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. It just—slipped out.” I lower my eyes to my plate. “Please don’t punish me,” I whisper.
“Now, now, Lilly.” Stonehart speaks with rich, mocking warmth. “What need would I have to punish you? I’m not immune to your situation. I understand some of your social abilities have dulled over the course of your stay. That just adds one more item to the list of things we need to work on.”
“I’ll do better,” I promise, silently cursing myself. Groveling goes against every bone in my body, but it’s what I must do if I want to play my role right. “You’re right. I’m rusty.”
“Of course I’m right,” he tells me. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a situation in which I’m wrong.”
Except about me, I repeat in my head. You’re wrong about me.
Stonehart smiles. I’d call it a greasy smile if it were on a face even a tenth less handsome. But he has clearly mastered the art of presentation. Everything about him flows from a place of cool confidence. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes,” I agree, glad for a distraction. “Yes, let’s.”
***
The rest of dinner goes by without much in the way of conversation. I don’t know my place yet, so I don’t speak unless Stonehart asks me a direct question.
That attitude fosters a growing silence between us. It has me on edge. Stonehart, on the other hand, looks right at ease. As he eats, he directs a polite smile at me every once in a while. The quiet does not bother him.
Then again, why should it? I imagine he has dealt with situations that were orders of magnitude more stressful—and important—than a dinner with his… plaything. To him, this dinner means nothing.
But for me, interactions like this are of utmost importance. One-on-one time with Stonehart is the only chance I have to learn about him.
This is his mask, I realize just as I’m taking my last bite. This is the face he shows to his colleagues. To the public. This is the face of Jeremy Stonehart, mega-millionaire, CEO of Stonehart Industries.
It gives no hint of the monster lurking underneath.
After our plates are taken away, Stonehart leans back. He still hasn’t said anything. He smiles, and I feel his eyes taking my features in. They dip past my neck, to the hemline of my dress. Being openly ogled like that makes me uncomfortable. I want to tug the straps up, and hide more of my skin, but I am sure that doing so would irritate him.
So, I sit perfectly straight and pretend not to notice.
Eventually, the silence becomes unbearable. This is the most time I’ve spent with him without having his cock shoved down my throat. I need to take advantage, especially so long as we’re both operating on some pretense of civility.
“Jeremy?” I venture. I make sure to add the proper amount of hesitation to my voice. “May I ask you a question?”
He picks up his wineglass and swirls it in his hand. “Do you remember our rules?” he asks.
“Yes. My question—well, it’s not even a question, really, more like… a clarification. It has to do with your—with my—rules. I’m only asking so I don’t ris
k breaking them later.”
Stonehart leans forward, intrigued. “You’re taking initiative,” he says. “You’re owning your situation. I respect that.” He nods. “Go on.”
I clear my throat. “You mentioned, before… um, consequences of misbehavior.”
“Yes,” he says. “I did.”
“I was wondering…” I clear my throat again. “What those would be?”
Stonehart smiles grandly. “Why, Lilly. I didn’t think a smart girl like you would have any trouble figuring that out.” He pauses to lean back and crosses one leg over the other. “The answer’s simple:
“If you misbehave, I will leave you in the dark.”
All the blood drains from my brain. No. No, I will not go back there!
My grip on my own wineglass slackens. It slips through my fingers and falls to the floor, splintering into tiny, sharp shards. The red liquid spreads like a growing pool of blood.
Stonehart frowns. “I’ve upset you,” he says softly. “Lilly, I assure you, that was not my intention.”
“It’s my fault,” I stammer, shaking my head. There is no act this time. This reaction is wholly my own. “I just… I just need…”
“Yes?” Stonehart asks, leaning forward. “Lilly. Tell me what you need.”
“I need… I need… air!”
I gasp and push up from the table. I stumble as a wave of light-headedness hits me.
Stonehart is by my side in a flash. His hands gently grip my shoulders and he lowers me to my chair.
“Breathe,” he tells me. “Lower your head.” I see him looking up at me, and realize he’s kneeling down to be on my level. I see both compassion and concern on his face.
Damn him for being such a good actor! Nobody in their right mind would ever think those emotions are faked. But I know better.
Stonehart holds my hand between both of his. I should be repulsed by having him so close, but somehow, beyond all reason, that simple grip on my hand gives me strength.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 11
