His captive, His obsession

dra

ack. It was the only thing in th

e travel down and back up, slow as a hand, and heat

ttled at my waist.

got to fight. He was warm, and the touch asked for nothin

self. He's a monster.

toward him. Our eyes met. Whatever he'd been looking for in mine, he

back to his chair, picked up a st

rist move and understood something that scared me

the dress

p, and that smile came back,

mb feet, rubbing red rings from my wrists. I snatched the gown from the mattress and tur

t asked

said, not looking up. "C

there was only the scratch of charcoal and my own pulse, an

th his eyes still on the p

scle in

t," I

coal kept moving. "You

dra

same way," he said. "Same

said my brother's name like he'd said it a

e, then smiled, small and private, the firs

said. "It'

the canv

n a wash of gold light, shoulders straight, chin lifted, her eyes hard an

hing anyone had ever made o

wiped his fingers on a cloth, and walked to the door wit

th his hand

said quietly. "Lon

losed. A l

rl on the canvas, and understood that I

pretending the mansion was a resor

rying to convince yourself that nothing is wrong. The dress waiting for me was white, with a slit that climbed to

is armor, even when the

ger waited in the shade of an umbrella, and beside it, a gl

my shades on, and let the music wash ove

ow fell acr

face turned to the water. I felt him looking, the way you fe

businessman," he said.

ar enough to meet his eye

on and took a sl

of the patio, and I knew from the way he stood, waiting, t

me," Der

t he was still loo

and closed around mine. Not hard. That w

om my fingers and sh

aid, and pulled