I think about dinner, realizing we haven’t eaten it. Strange to say, but I’m not even hungry. I feel satisfied as if Carina is all the nourishment I need. Or maybe I just know that skilled as my chef is, he will never make something that tastes as good as her.
I’m about to say something to Carina, to ask her if she wants to eat, when I realize that her breathing has slowed. I tilt my head as gently as I can, to look at her without disturbing her. When I get my head to the right angle to see her eyes, I realize they’re closed.
She’s fallen asleep.
A strange pang hits my chest, a feeling of… happiness, I think. She fell asleep in my arms. That must mean that she’s beginning to trust me. I don’t think I could achieve that even if I made her come a hundred times if she didn’t trust me. If she didn’t think there was no possibility that I could ever want to hurt her.
I smile to myself, reaching out blindly across the wall until I encounter a light switch and turn off the lights. I will stay here with her tonight, to make sure that she’s safe. To make sure that no one tries to harm her again. I will stay until she wakes, to face the day together – and, quite likely, a breakfast of cold pasta.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Carina
I wake up slowly, from a sleep that feels more restful than I’ve had in a long time. There’s no alarm blaring in my ear, no rush to get ready for the waiting ovens. I just wake when I’m done sleeping, from a pleasant dream into an even more pleasant reality.
I blush when I realize where I am, still in his arms, just as I was last night, the last thing that I remember. Not only that, but I never even managed to get dressed again, or change for bed. There’s a blanket laying beside me, as though I kicked it off sometime during the night, and I reach for it, trying to cover myself up subtly before Tommy notices.
“I did see it last night, you know,” he says drily, right beside my ear.
I yelp in surprise and then huff, sitting up and away from him as I finish covering myself with the blanket. “You could have told me you were awake,” I say accusingly.
“When?” Tommy asks mildly, blinking at me. “In the millisecond between when you started to move and I said something?”
I huff again, but only because I know he’s right and I don’t have a comeback. In the light of morning, Tommy looks softer somehow. After a moment of looking at his face, I realize it’s his hair, falling forward over his forehead, instead of pushed back and held in place by whatever products he usually uses. He looks nicer like this – kinder. Not that I can say whether I prefer it like this or the hot version that he wears every day.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” Tommy says, stretching his arms over his head. Not only am I still in my blouse from yesterday and nothing else, but I realize he’s also still dressed in his black suit and shirt, minus the jacket, draped over a nearby chair. I dimly remember him putting it there before he distracted me from thinking about or noticing anything other than his touch on my skin. “You should try on your new things. You never got around to it.”
I glance towards the other end of the room, where the racks and boxes still stand waiting for me. It’s true after I took the blouse and pants to get dressed in, I left everything else behind. I didn’t want to look. But now, it somehow feels less like he’s trying to bribe me – and more like he’s just showing me how he can look after me.
I suppose it could still be some kind of game. A way to make me fall into bed with him. But I’m already halfway there, and I don’t see myself being able to pull back. I might as well enjoy his gifts.
I wrap the blanket around my waist and get out of bed. Tommy gives me a slow grin when I glance back at him.
“Don’t be shy,” he says. He gets up and strolls over to me, planting a kiss on the top of my head before he heads for the door. “I’m going to get changed. I’ll be back in a moment. By the way, one of those bags on the floor is full of lingerie.”
I feel my cheeks heat up at his not so subtle suggestion, and wait until he’s closed the door and I hear his footsteps moving away before I drop the blanket. I dig through the bags he mentioned until I find some lacy underwear and quickly put it on, marveling at how well it fits me.
Even the bra is a perfect fit – which is a surprise. And it’s definitely much nicer than anything I’ve ever worn before. I feel amazing already, and I haven’t even gotten started on the rest of the clothes.
By the time Tommy returns I’m already dressed in a blue slip dress that somehow falls in all the right places, highlighting my chest and ass while minimizing my waist. God, it feels amazing. I keep looking at myself in the mirror, turning to look from different angles, amazed that it could possibly be me in that dress.
“What do you think?” Tommy asks. He moves behind me, looking at me in the mirror as he slips a possessive arm around my waist, and nuzzles my neck. “Do you like the way it looks?”
“Yes,” I breathe, and I’m not talking about the dress anymore. He meets my eyes in the glass and smiles darkly, nipping at my ear gently with his teeth before drawing away.
“What next?” he asks, pulling out a midnight blue velvet gown in a dust bag with a very expensive logo printed all over it. “How about this?”
I can only nod. I hold my breath as he pulls the dress out of the bag, I hardly dare to touch it. Something like this would take me years to save up for, not just months. I don’t even know how much it might have cost. I have no frame of reference.
“How does it feel?” Tommy asks, as I draw the dress on – blushing at him seeing me in the new lingerie, and the way his gaze travels over me – and he zips up the back.
“Like a million bucks,” I breathe because it’s true.
“You look it,” Tommy says appreciatively. This time in front of the mirror, he cups my chin and turns my head to kiss him, his hand raking over the front of the material of the dress.
“I thought you said we had to wait and spend the whole day together,” I tease him, only a little, mostly because I’m half-hoping he’ll give in and we’ll do it now instead. My blood is racing so fast, my only concern would be not wanting to ruin the dress.
“I can’t help it,” Tommy says, his breath catching in his throat. “The sight of you in that dress… I just want to put my mark on you, so no one else tries to steal you from me.”
My eyes travel over his face, taking in his expression. Hot need and naked desire, combined with that possessive slant to his eyes. I don’t doubt what he says for a moment. A powerful man like Tommy would never like other men playing with his things.
Am I one of his things?
I don’t know if the idea excites or disturbs me, but it doesn’t matter. I’m in too deep. I want this, just as much as he does.
Tommy steps away from me and does something with his phone. I think he’s probably dealing with work, and I admire the dress in the mirror for one more moment before preparing to take it off.
The next thing I know, though, music fills the air, an old song, something romantic and slow from the old days of Hollywood. I don’t know the song or the singer, but her voice seems to shimmer in the air as she begins to sing about love.
I look around and find Tommy with his arm outstretched toward me, a mysterious look on his face. I take his hand, wondering, and he pulls me close, keeping hold of my fingers while slipping his other arm around my waist. He begins to sway and I move with him, in time to the music, gently stepping in slow circles around the room.
We don’t speak, I only look up at him, at the mysterious look in his eyes, the crooked expression that curves one side of his lips just a little. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, gently and slowly, not at all like his fiery, deep kisses that I’m becoming used to.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, and I feel a fist take hold of my heart, squeezing it almost painfully. Tommy’s manner, the softness of that kiss, somehow prompts me to lean my head closer, to put it down on his chest and rest there, nothing else existing but
the music and the sway of our bodies together.
At last, the song comes to an end. With regret, I pull back, and Tommy releases me before stopping the next song from playing on his phone. A strange sense of calm has settled over me, and I realize that I’m no longer afraid of being here. Of being Tommy’s captive. It doesn’t feel that way anymore. I think I could go, and he would let me. But I don’t want to try.
“You haven’t tried any of your jewelry,” he says, leading me over to the boxes piled on one side of the racks. “You should.”
I giggle a little, what else can I do? I’ve never had this kind of show of wealth before. The things boxed up for me here – I could sell every single piece of jewelry I own and still, I wouldn’t be able to afford one-tenth of one item. Tommy takes off the lids and shows me diamond and pearl earrings, necklaces set with pear-shaped drops, bracelets with charms hanging from them, or woven strands of silver laden with diamonds.
“They’re all so beautiful,” I say, shaking my head in wonder. How could I dare wear any of these? What if they broke, or got lost?
“Then they are a good match.” Tommy seems to hesitate a second, and then reaches into his pocket and draws out another box, one I haven’t seen before. The boxes by the rack are all blue, new, and fresh-looking with perfect edges, but this one is different. The box is white and the corners are damaged, as if it’s been around for a long time. He opens it and shows me a necklace, not as flashy as all of the others. “What do you think?” he asks.
I reach out and touch it, a silver chain, extremely fine, holding an Art Deco style arrangement of silvery-black stones surrounding a black square. In contrast to the sparkling newness of the diamonds, this necklace looks old, weathered, as if it’s been through a few things.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say softly. “Can I put it on?” Somehow, this necklace seems more appealing than all of the rest. I can’t put my finger on it. For some reason, I want to wear this more than I want to wear anything else.
With a quirk of his lips that I can’t interpret, Tommy steps behind me and turns me to the mirror again, so I can watch as he clasps it around my neck. The intricate design sits against the notch between my collarbones, and it feels like it fits just so.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, thinking that it must surely be vintage.
“It was my mother’s,” Tommy says, watching me in the mirror. His eyes are dark, taking me in. “And her mother’s before that.”
The words hit me like a jolt. This isn’t just a case of Tommy splashing his cash around. This is an heirloom, something special. Something that you would only give to someone you intended to have around for a long time.
“Is it really okay for me to wear it?” I ask, my hand flying up to touch it, wondering if I should take it off to avoid any risk of it getting damaged.
“Yes,” Tommy says, swallowing, though he doesn’t say anything else. I watch the dip of his Adam’s apple and nod. He breaks the spell abruptly, looking away, moving towards the other clothes on the rack as if to choose another outfit.
“Tommy?” I ask, following him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”
His eyes flick over to me, open with curiosity now. Whatever that strange and intense moment was, it’s passed. “What?”
“How old are you?” I bite my lip after asking the question, worried that it might come off as rude.
Tommy only smirks. “I just turned forty,” he says. “Can’t you tell?”
I gasp, literally. I can’t believe what he’s telling me. “No,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “That’s another joke.”
Tommy tilts his head with an amused look. “Why do you say that?”
“Because… because…” I shake my head at him. “Look at you. There’s no way you’re… twenty-two years older than me!”
Tommy nods his head. “Does it bother you? The age difference?”
“I…” I hadn’t thought about it, but I can’t say that it occurred to me to even think about it. In other words, I always knew he was older than me. I just didn’t mind. My only worry was whether he would. “I don’t care about that. I just can’t believe you look… this good.”
Tommy laughs. “Well, that’s my first compliment from you,” he says, putting a hand to his chest. “I will treasure it.”
I shake my head again and move towards the clothes to pick out my next outfit, but I can’t stop staring at him as I do.
If nothing else, I have to make sure that I don’t leave here without finding out his secret for keeping his skin so smooth, so healthy, and youthful.
And for now, I have to make sure that I don’t think about the fact that his age, along with everything else about him, is just one more reason why he can’t possibly be interested in seeing me again after this week is over.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tommy
After Carina finally settles on an outfit to wear today, a blue sundress that flatters her figure beautifully with a blouse underneath, we have an indulgent lunch. Once we’re finished, I decide to take her on a tour of my home. After all, it’s also been her home for several days, and several more remain. I no longer think of her as our hostage or prisoner, she is here to stay with me. So, what could be the harm in a tour?
It's old news to me, I suppose, after all, I live here every day. But I feel like I’m rediscovering my home anew through Carina’s eyes. The look of awe on her face as we travel away from the wing in which she’s been staying and then through to the other side of the house – the wing in which I keep my own private quarters, away from guests and my men. I show her only the brief layout from the entrance to the wing and then lead her downstairs, to the grand entrance hall that she first saw when she was brought here.
“You don’t want me to see your room?” Carina asks, with what seems to be a mixture of teasing and disappointment.
I only flash her an enigmatic smile. “We’ll finish that part of the tour later,” I tell her.
I lead her through the rooms downstairs – large sitting rooms where I have my men spend their time if they’re not out working, rooms full of things to occupy their time, a gym, swimming pool, billiards table, darts, and other games. The kitchen, vast and sparkling with white marble, the chef nodding to us as he prepares ingredients for later. Out to the back of the house, the grounds, a rolling expanse of green that stretches out to a tall stone wall in the far distance, with trees and flowerbeds between.
“It’s incredible,” Carina says. “So big, too.”
I watch her face as she breathes deeply in the fresh air, and I know it’s true. I’m not at that stage of wealth that makes me forget where I came from. I wasn’t always this rich. I’ve fought for every dollar, and I came from nothing. I know this house is excessive, especially for one man alone. It was never quite intended to be that way, but that’s how it turned out.
I wanted this place to be a family home. It was always intended for a family. Not just the men who call themselves my family – a real one, a wife and children who could fill up the spaces with joy and laughter. But I had work to do. I had to build up my empire, and it took me a long time. Now, with my empire in place, I find it hard to meet women who come anywhere close to my desires. They’re vacuous, aspiring models who think I can give their careers a boost by threatening people into hiring them. I don’t want that.
The only official resident of this home is me. But perhaps that will change. Soon I hope.
“Let’s finish the tour,” I say, pulling her away from her exploration of the grounds. Even though I wouldn’t stop her, I don’t want her to get the idea of running away from me, escaping to the front yard, and then off down the driveway. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t yet trust whatever is between us enough to allow her the chance.
Carina follows me back inside and then upstairs, back to my wing. I take her to a pair of double doors, locked with a key that only I have a copy of, and open them to lead her inside. The master bedroom, my sanctuary. None of my men
have ever been inside. I clean it myself. This is for me, and only for me.
But now, I’m opening it up for her.
“This is your room?” Carina asks, looking around with what I think is awe – and perhaps a little excitement.
“Yes,” I tell her, locking the doors again behind us. “My men never disturb me here. They know better.”
“It’s lovely,” Carina says, taking a step in the direction of the bed before stopping short. I understand her desire and her hesitation. Anyone would want to run their hands over those silky sheets.
“This room is mine, and mine alone,” I say. “Would you like to share it with me?”
Carina turns and looks at me, her lips slightly parted, a question hanging from her lips that remains unspoken.
“You could,” I say.
Carina bites her lip for a tiny moment and nods like she’s trying to be brave, to overcome her shyness.
“I told you I would make today special for you,” I say. “I’ve danced with you, shared good food with you, and given you something special to my heart. I hope I’ve shown you that you can be comfortable here, in this house. Later, we can enjoy a sumptuous dinner. But there is one last thing I want to give you today.”
Carina raises her head, though I can see that she’s trembling slightly. “What is it?”
“You have your freedom,” I tell her. “Just say the word, and you can leave.”
There’s a silence between us for a long moment, stretching on until I can hardly bear it. If she chooses to go, I swear I will go mad. I will destroy this place with my bare hands. But I won’t threaten her with that. This is up to her, and she won’t witness the consequences either.
“I don’t want to leave,” Carina says quietly, her voice tight with emotion.
I step forward and kiss her, deeply, my hands cupping her face to lift it to mine. I walk her back as I devour her hungrily until she’s standing by one of the floor to ceiling windows cut into the wall that faces the garden, bathed in perfect light. The view out is the side of the house, over the pathway that leads to the front driveway, and a willow tree by a small pond.
Falling For His Captive Page 5
