I know. Stupid. I was so stupid to feel any of those things. I wished so badly that I could be a proper slave. But I was a bad slave. Life would be so much easier if I just didn’t care. If I could be numb.
I was lost to these thoughts when Mr. Douglas had taken me by the neck and made me look at him. He was so strong—intense and sexy. My body reacted for him, softening, though the explosion of emotion in my chest was far from soft.
“Do you wish for me to own you, Angel?” he’d asked.
Yes. God, yes. I wanted him to own me in every way. But only me.
And then, when I thought the torture was finally over, Marco called me over to service him, talking about “sharing.” I’d never touched him intimately before. For some reason the prospect upset me on multi-levels, and once I began to tremble I couldn’t stop. It’s just oral sex, I tried to tell myself, but it felt like so much more than that. Marco’s hold over me—his role in my life—had become skewed and complicated. I felt as nervous and sick as I would if I had to blow my own uncle or the Texas senator. It just felt wrong. The moment my shaking hand went around him, and my mouth touched his flesh, his ownership over me became complete. I was not my own, or even Mr. Douglas’s, unless Marco wanted me to be.
And now he was below deck, dying. Maybe dead by now. I should have been far happier about that.
When we got to the port and docked the boat, Mr. Douglas gagged the captain and tied him on the floor. The knots looked tight enough to hurt. He then reached his hand into the man’s pocket and removed a cell phone, slipping it into his own pocket. He reached toward me and I flinched in fear as his hands wrapped around my neck, then I stared in astonishment as he tossed my collar over the side of the boat into the water. I stood at his impatient motioning, my nerves completely shot, knees trembling.
This was it. He was going to take me. I was scared of my unknown future with him, but I didn’t want to look back at my wretched past, either. My life was in Mr. Douglas’s hands now, for better or for worse.
Together, we hurried off the yacht.
Mr. Douglas took my hand, twining our fingers together and holding tight.
“Pretend we’re a couple.”
His strides were long, and I walked briskly in my high heels, still trembling on the inside. I was sweating under the stupid wig and hat. I wished I could rip them off. People on the small port street were starting to look. Did they recognize us or something?
“Nos están mirando,” I said under my breath.
He gave me a funny look, and I remembered he wasn’t great with Spanish.
“They’re staring,” I whispered. It felt strange to speak English.
“Of course they are,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re a beautiful woman walking down the street in a fucking bathing suit and spike heels.”
Oh. I’d forgotten that kind of thing wasn’t normal.
He pulled out the captain’s cell phone and dialed, holding the phone to his ear. We never stopped moving. “I’ve got the girl. We’ll need a plane stat. Contact Graham and tell him we’ll all meet as his place temporarily. It’s most secure. Begin the process of liquidating my assets and selling the land. I’ll sign when I get there.”
Who was he talking to? And why was he talking about how he’d gotten me, as if it had been a prearranged thing? He glanced around and gave our location to the person on the phone. I still had no idea what was going on, but that feather of hope that had buried itself deep inside me so long ago seemed to unfurl and spread open like tentative, atrophied wings.
We entered a busy shopping street, and Mr. Douglas steered me into a boutique on the corner.
“Thank fuck,” he whispered.
“Hola,” said the shop clerk girl in greeting.
“Uh, yes. Hola. We’ll take one of these.” He ripped a multicolored maxi dress from a hanger and thrust it at me. “Go put it on in the dressing room.”
The woman’s eyes widened.
On the inside I felt frantic and thoroughly confused, I didn’t want any attention drawn that might lead Marco’s men to us. I couldn’t go back there, and I couldn’t watch them kill Mr. Douglas, even if he was just another bad guy. All I wanted was to get far, far away from here.
I cleared my throat and tried to smile at the girl, though I couldn’t keep the slight shake from my voice. “Estamos en nuestra luna de miel y vamos tarde para nuestro barco.”
“Ahh…” Her eyes softened in understanding, but Mr. Douglas looked alarmed, which ratcheted my pulse. Did he think I would turn on him? I needed him to know I was loyal.
“I told her we’re on our honeymoon and we’re late for our boat,” I whispered. He let out a breath. Maybe it was crazy, because I knew nothing about this man, but there was nobody else I’d rather be with in that moment. Even in my terrified state, I felt more secure at his side than I’d ever felt with Marco. When he touched the small of my back in a gently possessive way, I shivered with peace.