Refusing to acknowledge my level of frustration, I stood, pulled back my shoulders, straightened the skirt of the dress, and walked with my head held high to the door. Turning the knob, I pulled it inward. To avoid letting him see my shaking hands, I held tightly to the door. “Ian.”
I wasn’t confident in my ability to speak more without my voice giving away my distress.
“Miss North,” Ian said with a feigned grin. “I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Ramses was called away this evening. His errand is taking longer than he planned. He didn’t want you to miss your meal.” Ian stepped to the side, revealing a small cart similar to the one he used when he delivered breakfast and lunch. Upon the cart was one place setting.
Perhaps I should have questioned what took Rett away or if he was all right. At that moment, any questions were obscured by the massive disappointment growing within me.
After all, why would the prisoner be concerned about the warden’s well-being?
“That’s very thoughtful of him,” I managed to say.
“May I?” Ian asked, gesturing within.
Inhaling, I made my decision. “That won’t be necessary, Ian. Take it back to the kitchen.”
“Miss, you need to eat.”
“I have things in the refrigerator.”
Small lines formed around his gray eyes. “Miss Guidry added a lagniappe—an extra piece of lemon cake.”
“Please be sure to tell her I said thank you. I would hate to be ungrateful for the food delivered to my cell.” By Ian’s change in expression, he took notice of my choice of words. “I’ll pass.” I took a step back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll close the door.”
Ian nodded. “I’ll leave it here for a while in case you change your mind.”
“No, Ian, I won’t. And if I did, it wouldn’t matter, would it?”
“Miss?”
Swallowing my emotions, I straightened my neck. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
I closed the door.
Stripping off the dress, I wadded the material and left it balled on the floor of the large closet. The earrings and necklace were left on the counter as I washed my face and went to bed for a night of restless sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Everett Ramses.
At first the dreams were benign, dining and talking. However, as the night progressed, they took a turn. Rett’s deep voice sent shivers down my spine. His rich, spicy cologne and warm breath teased my senses, and his large hands roamed my body.
“Emma, do you remember what I said the night we met what I wanted from you?”
The room around us was unfamiliar, yet I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the man dominating my senses. My lips closed, creating a straight line. He’d said so much.
Without another word, Rett stepped closer. We walked in sync until my shoulders collided with the wall and his firm chest pressed against my hardened nipples. His hand was in my hair, fisting it, tugging my head back, and exposing my neck. Kisses rained over my sensitive skin, their ferocity growing until they became nips and licks.
My breathing labored as I tried to keep up with the myriad of sensations this man could produce. His presence was everywhere at once, surrounding me, encapsulating me, and drowning me.
And yet there was nothing that he was doing that I didn’t want. Maybe it was that I longed to be close to someone and in my current state of affairs, Everett Ramses was the only choice. Or maybe it was the passion in his touch, the possessiveness in his kisses, and the lust in his dark brown eyes.
“What do I want from you?” he asked, his hand still holding tightly to my hair.
I knew the answer, what he wanted. He wanted my submission, my willingness to be ready for him, day or night.
“I’ve never” —my voice came out heady and needy— “submitted to anyone, Rett.”
“You want it, Emma. I see it in your beautiful eyes. There’s a storm brewing in there and you want to ride it out with me. I’m fucking hard as steel and you’re wet, aren’t you?”
I was. “I am.”