Just then Rebecca spotted a middle-aged man coming their way, and her pulse leapt with hope. Maybe she could plead her case, tell him she was being held against her will, and he could call for help, get her off this isolated island. But when she glanced back at Quinn he had a knowing looking on his face.
“There are three loyal members of my staff here, and they answer to me only.” He waved a hand. “That is Michael, and he’s here to attend to your needs during your visit.”
“What I need is to get out of here,” she said flatly.
Ignoring her he continued, “You’ll also meet Ester, my cook, and Mario, the grounds keeper.”
Michael nodded his head and greeted them both, then proceeded to grab their luggage from the plane. “Right this way, ma’am,” he said, gesturing toward the foliage lined path leading up to the grand estate.
Deciding to follow, and hoping there was a landline inside the house, she pushed past Mr. Montgomery and stayed close to Michael as he led the way. Once inside the opulent, airy home, the cool air conditioning refreshing against her hot skin, she searched for a phone.
As she panned the living space, she took in the huge floor-to-ceiling windows lining the back of the house, and the magnificent view of the ocean below. Michael disappeared up the wide staircase with their luggage in tow, and Rebecca stepped forward, needing to put a measure of distance between her and the man whose mere presence had the ability to warm her blood quicker than a double vodka martini.
She examined the expensive sculptures and artwork lining the walls, making note of the dark, creamy leather furniture and polished marble floors. Even though his summer home was grand and lavish, there was still something inviting and homey about it.
She felt him step up behind her, the warmth of his body weakening her knees as he placed his hands on her hips. “You can roam at your leisure, Rebecca,” he murmured into her ear, causing the fine hairs along her neck to bristle. “The truth is, I’m not going to keep you captive.”
She turned to see him, but wished she hadn’t. Sexual tension arced between them, the air around them charging. She fought to recover her voice and asked, “So I can leave?”
“If you want to get off, you can get off.” His voice dipped lower, became much deeper when he added, “But that will require you to stay.”
As she caught the sexy, double entendre, her mouth opened and closed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
His smile turned predatory. “But you need to know that staying means following my orders.”
She swallowed hard. “Look, I know what this is about. You’re upset with the outcome of your trial and you brought me here for revenge.”
“That’s not what I’m after,” he said.
“Then what exactly is it that you want from me?” She braced herself for the answer because every instinct she possessed told her revenge was exactly what he was after, and he planned to make her pay for his losses…but payment wouldn’t come in the form of cash. No, it would come in another form all together.
The muscles along his jaw flexed and his black eyes shimmered when he said, “Total and utter submission.”
Oh, God, the price was higher than she’d ever anticipated.
Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again, and while there were so many things she wanted to counter with, all she could do was croak out a heated moan.
“If you decide to stay, all decisions will be taken away from you.” He waved a hand. “Here you don’t get to ask questions or decide on anything.”
Her limbs grew weak, and an unexpected lick of heat prowled through her body, settling itself deep between her legs.
“Michael will be back in a moment to collect you. You will follow him to your room, and put on only the clothes I picked out for you. Nothing more, nothing less. Then you will join me for brunch on the terrace. It’s a beautiful day to eat outside, don’t you think?”
Rebecca just stood there staring, her mind still processing. He wanted her to put on clothes that he picked out for her? Then meet him for brunch? Was he kidding?
Indignant, and unable to believe what he was suggesting, she drew in a quick breath to refuel her addled brain and said, “If you think I’m going to wear clothes—”
“It’s not a suggestion.”
As blood drained to her toes, she forced her chin up. “I thought you said you’d never make me do anything I didn’t want to.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I don’t want to wear clothes you picked out for me.” She gestured to the professional pantsuit draping her body. “I have my own clothes.”
He stepped closer and her heart leapt as his heat and scent overwhelmed her. “I’m a patient man, Rebecca. But we only have the weekend. And it’d be wise not to push my patience too far.”
“I am not—”
“Disobedience comes with a price.”
Her heart hammered. “A price?”
“I’ll be forced to punish you until I have your compliance. Understand?”