Or sell her story to the press about the disgustingly rich Reinier family. That would be enough to set her family up for life. He wondered why his uncle was so charitable to their kind.
“Come out. I know who you are. And unless you want me to tell my uncle to pass your contract on, I want to see your face and know what you are doing here.” He spoke with the air of a rich and privileged man, because that was what he was.
A movement. He caught the scent of jasmine on the air as she brushed past the shrub, and then she was there, her body a silhouette, until the moon caught her in its caress and made her look as though she were a creature from another world.
She is, he reminded himself.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, playing the master to her servant to its utmost extreme. This was who he was, he reminded himself.
“I wanted to be alone,” she said, standing before him, all voluptuous curves: ripe, beautiful, and out of his reach.
“Do you have permission?” he asked.
“Permission?” She smiled, a sadness in her voice. “No. I don’t have permission. I didn’t realise I had to ask for permission to walk in the grounds. I apologise.”
She moved to walk past him, her head down, avoiding his gaze. And he should have let her go, but as he watched her, her eyes lifted up to the silvery moon, and he saw his own fascination—no, addiction—mirrored.
In that moment he was no longer the rich nephew of Darius Reinier. In that moment he was lost.
2
“Wait,” he said, and she froze.
Amara had been here for a month. This was her first moon with this damn collar around her neck and she wanted to sit and cry, or fight like a hellcat to get it off. It was why she had come out here to be alone. To keep herself out of trouble.
It would get easier, Misty, one of the other shifters had told her. But Amara knew it would only get easier if she allowed a part of herself to die. Little by little, her true identity would be erased and she would be left hollow.
So when she was commanded to stop by Kane Reinier, she found herself clenching her fists, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, as she fought to keep her tongue under control.
In truth she was also scared, although she would never admit that. A lioness was never scared, but here, outside of the Prime, she was out of her comfort zone. The collar, made of pure silver, absorbed the messages her brain sent to her body, telling it to shift from human to lion.
Her lioness was a caged animal, and Amara was vulnerable. Vulnerable to this man, who had a reputation of being a man-whore. Always a woman in his bed, but never for more than one night. Was that what he was going to demand of her now? That she provide a service to him, to make up for daring to trespass on his precious lawn?
He came towards her, and she tried in vain to stop her heart from pounding in her chest. Keep calm, don’t let him know you are afraid.
“Is there something I can do for you, sir?” she asked, immediately cursing herself for using such a leading question.
“Yes.” His answer was blunt, the look in his eyes saying more. His pupils were dilated; he was aroused. Damn it. He was probably going to demand she submit to him here on the lawn in front of his mansion. Proving himself a man, the lord of his domain. Well, his uncle’s domain anyway.
The little lord, being schooled to one day take over his uncle’s empire. This man before her had never known hardship, never known loss; all he had to do was be a good boy and one day he would take control of the Reinier Corporation.
“Whatever it is, I can go back to the house and fetch it for you.” She turned to walk away, not hurrying. Just walking at a quick, steady pace.
“No. I want you to stay here.”
“I thought you wanted me to get off your lawn,” she said, and kept walking.
“Stop,” he growled and she obeyed. She knew a command when she heard it. This would take some talking her way out of.
She stopped, turning back to face him, her chin tilting up, needing to show him, despite her rapidly beating heart, that she was not afraid. He could not bully her into doing something she didn’t want to do. But the collar around her neck seemed to close off the air to her lungs, as if reminding her he was completely and utterly in charge of her life.
“Walk with me,” he said and turned to walk back towards the lake. This was not looking good. The further away from the house they went, the more chance there would be of her cries going unheard, if he decided to hurt her.