After brushing my hair, I hoisted the waves up and clipped them to create a sophisticated style that showed off my neck. Rummaging through the makeup bag I’d also found in the same room as the dress, I set to work applying a kind of war paint—a dazzling application of natural foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and bright red lipstick.
Checking my reflection in the window on the way out of the room, I was surprised to see so little of the old Anya because a curvaceous, sexy woman was staring back. Gone were the innocent eyes that were now shielded behind long black lashes and my mouth a bright red pout.
I made my way to the top of the stairwell and saw Cassius waiting for me below in the foyer. Straightening my back to elicit pride, I descended with my hand sweeping the banister on the way down.
Cassius looked up and fixed his intense focus on me with each step I took. My confidence soared as though shielded by the splendor of this dress.
He drank me in. Tucking his hands into his pockets and standing straight, blinking as though processing the woman before him.
When I made it to the last step, I clutched the handrail and waited for his reaction.
Only there was none. He merely stood there as though I wasn’t. Seeing through me, calmly observing. If he was waiting for my move, he wasn’t going to see it. As though both of us played this dark game of who would crack first under pressure.
I became breathless when he stepped closer. Peering up at his beautiful and yet haunting eyes, the way they crinkled with fascination. The way he emanated a stark energy that seemed impossible to contain. My core rippling with an uneasy sensation. Letting out a shaky exhale.
He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a white handkerchief, pressing it to my mouth and wiping off my lipstick. Bringing the material to his own lips, he moistened it, then returned it to my mouth to continue wiping away my bright red rebellion. The way his touch caressed my lips felt forbidden.
A ghost of a smile appeared curling at the edges of his mouth, shattering the illusion. “You’ll do.”
With his hand around my upper arm, I was being led toward the door. Anticipation welled in my chest that we were going out, beyond these walls to where my chances of escape increased with every passing second. The heat of the evening embracing us as we stepped into the courtyard, met by the chanting cicadas that hummed loudly around us.
Heart hammering with the hope that soon others would see me,I climbed in and then dipped my head as I slid into the passenger seat of his SUV. My captor slid in beside me on the driver’s side.
“Where are we going?” I asked, pulling on my seat belt.
He gripped the steering wheel. “I thought it might be nice to dine out tonight.”
There was so much to this man I hardly knew. Though what I had gathered in the short time we were together was that each decision, each action carried with it an alternative motive. This wasn’t just dinner; this was something else entirely. I’d go along with it, too, because freedom lay on the other side of those walls, and tonight, he was the one taking me beyond them.
When he flashed me one of his endearing smiles, it threw me all over again. He was too relaxed, too confident to show any concern about losing me tonight. Maybe, just maybe, he was letting me go, setting me free. For some reason, that unsettled me. That tonight might be the last time I’d see him. It made no sense as I clung heavily to my deepest fear. Cassius was the first man who’d ever seen me—looked beyond the woman I was and actually seen me.
He drove the car through the tall double gate that had slowly swung wide before us.
I imagined what it would feel like if he slid his hand over and took mine in his. If he showed a flash of affection, how it would affect the evening moving forward. His touch softened the edges of all the hurts that had gone before.
Digging my fingernails into the seat to steady myself, annoyed I’d actually gone there, played with the impossible idea of us.
It didn’t matter how much I fought against it. I wanted to know how his lips would feel like pressed to mine. What it would be like to be kissed by him, tongues swirling, being held against him.
I cursed him for it. “How do you sleep at night?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Fine. Thanks for asking.” His mockery had me gritting my teeth.
“Are you taking me home?”
“No, Anya, I’m not.”
We were heading fast into the city, lights brightening the night sky, and pedestrians mixing with locals and vibrant tourists. People were flooding the streets and bringing alive the city I hardly knew.