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Authors: Caitlin Crews
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today. What would become of her after five more years of this? Ten? She’d put Miss Havisham to shame in her bought-and-paid-for London flat, tarting herself up every day in her corporate costume to better please him, his favorite little automaton ….
She could see it all too clearly and it made her feel sick. It would be easier if she could simply do it for the money, the way she had when this had started. But she was too far gone. At least, she thought now, she knew it. Surely that was something. A first step.
“I don’t want to live in London,” she told him. She lifted a shoulder and then dropped it. She ignored the way her stomach twisted, and that howling, brokenhearted part of her that wanted him any way she could have him. Even now. Even like this. “I don’t want a flat.”
“Where, then?” He raised a brow. “Are you angling for a house? An estate? A private island? I think I have all of the above.”
“Indeed you do,” she replied. It was almost comforting to pull up all of that information she knew about him and his many and varied assets—until she rememberedhow deeply proud she’d always been that she so rarely had to consult the computer to access Cayo’s details. It was yet more evidence of how deeply pathetic she was. “You have sixteen residential properties, some of which are also estates. You also own three private islands, as well as a modest collection of atolls. That’s at last count. You do always seem to acquire more, don’t you?”
Cayo leaned back against the wide desk that stretched across the center of the room as if it were a throne he expected to be worshipped upon and crossed his arms over his chest, and she couldn’t deny the intensity of that midnight stare. She felt it like fire, down to the bare soles of her feet. Her toes curled slightly in response, and she flexed her feet to stop it. And still he merely watched her, that gaze of his dark and stirring, and she had no idea what he saw.
“Pick one.” It was a command.
“You can’t buy me back,” she said, her own voice just as quiet as his. Just as deliberate. “I don’t want your money.”
“Everyone has a price, Miss Bennett.” He rubbed at his jaw with one hand, a considering light in his unnerving eyes. “Especially those who claim they do not, I usually find.”
“Yes,” she said, shifting in her chair as a kind of restlessness swirled through her. She wanted to fast forward through this, desperately. She wanted to be on the other side of it, when she’d already found the strength to defy him, had walked away and was living without him. She wanted this done already; she didn’t want to
do
it. “I know how you operate. But I have no family left to threaten or save. No outstanding debts you can leverage to your advantage. No deep, dark secretsyou can threaten to expose or offer to hide more deeply. Nothing at all that can force me to take a job I don’t want, I’m afraid.”
He only watched her in that way of his, as if it made no difference what she said to him. Because, she realized, it didn’t. Not to him. He was immoveable. A wall. And maybe he even enjoyed watching her batter herself against the sheer iron of his will. She wouldn’t put anything past him. Desperation coursed through her then, a hectic surge of electricity, and Dru couldn’t sit still any longer. She got to her feet and then eased away from him, as if by standing she’d ceded ground to him.
“Miss Bennett,” he began in a voice she recognized. It was the voice he used to mollify his victims before he felled them with a killing blow. She knew it all too well. She’d heard it in a hundred board rooms. In a thousand conference calls.
She couldn’t take it here, now. Aimed directly at her.
“Just stop!” she heard herself cry out. There was an inexorable force moving through her, despair and desperation swelling large, and she couldn’t seem to do anything but obey it. She faced him again, her hands balling into
She could see it all too clearly and it made her feel sick. It would be easier if she could simply do it for the money, the way she had when this had started. But she was too far gone. At least, she thought now, she knew it. Surely that was something. A first step.
“I don’t want to live in London,” she told him. She lifted a shoulder and then dropped it. She ignored the way her stomach twisted, and that howling, brokenhearted part of her that wanted him any way she could have him. Even now. Even like this. “I don’t want a flat.”
“Where, then?” He raised a brow. “Are you angling for a house? An estate? A private island? I think I have all of the above.”
“Indeed you do,” she replied. It was almost comforting to pull up all of that information she knew about him and his many and varied assets—until she rememberedhow deeply proud she’d always been that she so rarely had to consult the computer to access Cayo’s details. It was yet more evidence of how deeply pathetic she was. “You have sixteen residential properties, some of which are also estates. You also own three private islands, as well as a modest collection of atolls. That’s at last count. You do always seem to acquire more, don’t you?”
Cayo leaned back against the wide desk that stretched across the center of the room as if it were a throne he expected to be worshipped upon and crossed his arms over his chest, and she couldn’t deny the intensity of that midnight stare. She felt it like fire, down to the bare soles of her feet. Her toes curled slightly in response, and she flexed her feet to stop it. And still he merely watched her, that gaze of his dark and stirring, and she had no idea what he saw.
“Pick one.” It was a command.
“You can’t buy me back,” she said, her own voice just as quiet as his. Just as deliberate. “I don’t want your money.”
“Everyone has a price, Miss Bennett.” He rubbed at his jaw with one hand, a considering light in his unnerving eyes. “Especially those who claim they do not, I usually find.”
“Yes,” she said, shifting in her chair as a kind of restlessness swirled through her. She wanted to fast forward through this, desperately. She wanted to be on the other side of it, when she’d already found the strength to defy him, had walked away and was living without him. She wanted this done already; she didn’t want to
do
it. “I know how you operate. But I have no family left to threaten or save. No outstanding debts you can leverage to your advantage. No deep, dark secretsyou can threaten to expose or offer to hide more deeply. Nothing at all that can force me to take a job I don’t want, I’m afraid.”
He only watched her in that way of his, as if it made no difference what she said to him. Because, she realized, it didn’t. Not to him. He was immoveable. A wall. And maybe he even enjoyed watching her batter herself against the sheer iron of his will. She wouldn’t put anything past him. Desperation coursed through her then, a hectic surge of electricity, and Dru couldn’t sit still any longer. She got to her feet and then eased away from him, as if by standing she’d ceded ground to him.
“Miss Bennett,” he began in a voice she recognized. It was the voice he used to mollify his victims before he felled them with a killing blow. She knew it all too well. She’d heard it in a hundred board rooms. In a thousand conference calls.
She couldn’t take it here, now. Aimed directly at her.
“Just stop!” she heard herself cry out. There was an inexorable force moving through her, despair and desperation swelling large, and she couldn’t seem to do anything but obey it. She faced him again, her hands balling into
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