Would he do it? Was he going to kill me? Dizziness overtook me as I stood up from the bath, the heat turning my head fuzzy.
His hand clamped over my wrist, and I followed limply as he led me back into the bedroom. My eyes lingered on my bra lying on the bathroom floor. If only I’d used the razor when I’d had the chance. I wouldn’t make that mistake again, I decided. I only hoped I had the chance.
Leaving me next to the bed, he opened his closet and pulled out an armful of clothes. There must have been a half dozen different dresses, and an equal amount of silk lingerie.
“Here,” he said. “Try something on.”
“Did you get these for me?” My fingers stroked the fabric of the top dress, a satin gown that looked more expensive than my last car. Beads glittered across the bodice. The dresses looked to be my size. Had he bought them specially for me? There was no way. But he looked up at me with a bright look in his eyes. Hopeful. It made me feel ill.
“I want you to wear something nice tonight,” he said. “Something pretty, like you.”
“I’m not pretty,” I mumbled.
“You are very pretty,” he said dispassionately, as though correcting me on a fact.
“Which one do you want me to wear?” I asked.
“I don’t know what color you would like best,” he said. “So I got a few.”
He certainly had. The second dress was a scarlet red sheath that felt even silkier than the first. And there was a whole pile of them here.
“I… I don’t know.” He had me completely confused. Threatening to kill me in one breath, then offering me these presents in the next? Was he dressing me up so that he could cut me to pieces? It made no sense. But then again, neither did anything else he had done with me.
“This one,” he said, pulling out a long strapless green gown. The fabric was gauzy, slipping through my fingers as he laid it in my arms along with a hanger of black silk lingerie. “And these.”
“I—thank you,” I stammered.
“Go try them on,” he said.
I stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, locking it. I exhaled.
Now. It was my chance. I grabbed up my old underwear and bra and pulled the razor from its hiding place. I set it on the counter. I would have to try to kill him now. I couldn’t have planned it better. He would be distracted.
I tugged on the lingerie. The bra was a smaller band than I normally wore, but the cup size was half a size larger. Surprisingly, it fit better than my normal bra. With shaky fingers I tucked the razor inside the lingerie. I didn’t bother slitting the fabric to hide it inside. If I was going to do this, I needed easy access to my weapon.
My weapon. Jesus. I was actually going to do this.
Sliding the green dress over my shoulders, I smoothed down the fabric. My cleavage peeked out from under the fitted bodice, the curves casting soft shadows on my skin. My hair, half-dry, curled over the back of my shoulders. If it hadn’t been for the white bandages covering my arms and hands, I would have looked like I was going to an executive cocktail party.
I opened the door and found Gavriel sitting on the bed in a clean shirt and pants. He looked up at me with such awe that I began to tremble. His eyes swept down over me, and I swear that he could see my soul. I worried that the razor was obvious, that the outline would show through the fabric. No, of course it couldn’t.
The way he looked at me, though... it was as though he was more open than ever. And what was hidden behind the mask scared me even more: he desired me.
He came and stood in front of me. His eyes looked more green than gray, maybe from the reflection of my dress fabric. His hands touched my shoulders, his fingers sliding up and down lightly. Framing his vision of me. I wondered what he saw. A helpless girl, a willing victim. I would show him that I would not go gently.
“Beautiful. Thank you for wearing it for me.”
He paused, looking into my face, then spoke in a low voice that hinted at flirting.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“What do I want?”
My voice was shaky, and I swore that he knew what I was planning. But he only looked at me calmly, the look of a predator who had his prey trapped. Playing with me, that’s what he was doing.
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you for dressing up nicely for me. Now what do you want in return?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I want you to let me go. You won’t do that?”
In my heart I prayed for him to say yes. Then I wouldn’t have to hurt him. I wouldn’t have to kill him. I wouldn’t have to escape on my own.
“No,” he said, equally calmly.
“Then I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”
His hands squeezed my shoulders gently, above the bandages. His voice whispered into my ear.
“I do.”
One hand trailed down my hand, his fingertips feeling their way down to my hip. I held my breath as he passed over the place in my bra where I had hidden the razor. But he did not stop until his hand was resting on the curve just below my waist. My heart beat fast.