As I shift my weight, I feel the throbbing ache on my inner thigh where she kicked me.
I should leave her tied to that chair until her fucking arms fall off.
I won’t, though.
I leave my room, taking a spare blanket out of the closet on my way down the hall. I descend the stairs, past the dining hall, over to the doorway to the lower levels. It’s a hidden doorway that looks identical to the other wooden panels of the wall.
The monks had their secrets. The lower level is riddled with passageways and hidden rooms, and below that, the catacombs themselves, which once housed the tombs of the dead brothers. My men dug them all out, altering the space to suit our purposes.
I was aware of two tunnels leading out of the monastery—I keep them open in case we ever need to pass in or out of the compound unseen. But those tunnels have locked steel doors and surveillance. I don’t think that’s how Sloane got in.
Which means there’s a third tunnel that I didn’t know about.
That annoys me. It’s sloppy.
Sloane will tell me where that third tunnel is, and how she found it. She’ll tell me everything I want to know, whether she wants to or not.
I’ve reached the door to her cell. I check the camera outside to make sure she hadn’t somehow slipped her bonds and is now waiting next to the door to try to brain me with the chair.
She’s still tied up. And still distractingly nude.
I straighten my shoulders, trying to steel my resolve.
I have to maintain control.
This girl isn’t some mafia princess or gold digger or club rat. She’s a professional, like me. She’s going to do whatever she can to get under my skin.
As I push open the door, she looks up at me. Her arms are still pinned behind her back. She must be getting extremely uncomfortable by now, but she’s refusing to show any hint of that.
I can’t help allowing my eyes to sweep down her body once more.
Fucking hell, what a body it is.
I’ve seen a lot of beautiful women naked.
But there’s something about her figure that arouses me like nothing ever has before.
Perhaps it’s those bare breasts, thrust toward me—small and natural, but beautifully teardrop-shaped, with the most delicate, tender-looking nipples. Maybe it’s her long limbs, slim but lightly muscled. Maybe it’s her thick, black curls and the slight tint of color in her skin that adds to the mysterious look of her, the ambiguity of who she is and where she came from.
Or maybe it’s just the fact that, tied to that chair, she’s so deliciously vulnerable.
I’ve dominated women in bed, but never quite like this.
The sight of her bound and helpless is achingly erotic. It’s awakening something inside of me I’ve never known before.
It’s waking a beast.
And that beast is hungry.
She sees the lust in my eyes. Her lips part ever so slightly. Her breath quickens.
I try to make my voice as cold and stern as possible.
“I’m going to cut those ties,” I tell her. “If you try to attack me, or to escape, I’m going to wrap you up like a mummy. So don’t do anything stupid.”
I see her look of surprise that I would cut her loose. Then her glance toward the door. She can’t help herself, thinking how she might escape.
“It’s locked,” I tell her flatly. “There’s a camera up there.” I point to it. “And there’s a dozen men between you and any door out of here.”
