About the book
When I wake up in a dark, unfamiliar room, I have no idea what's
waiting for me in the shadows. My imagination conjures up demons of the worst
kind.
Reality is much worse:
A collar with no leash. A prison with no walls. And a life stripped of meaning.
I am presented with a vile contract and asked to sign. It outlines the terms of my servitude. The only information I have about my captor are the two small letters inked at the bottom:
J.S.
Armed with only my memories, I must do everything I can to avoid becoming ensnared in his twisted mind games. But in the end, it all comes down to one choice:
Resist and die.
Or submit, and sign my life away
Did that catch your attention? How about an excerpt.
“Lilly.”
Oh God. It’s him.
There’s no mistaking that rich, masculine treble.
What’s he doing down
here?
“M-Mr. Stonehart,” I
stutter, turning. I curse my inability to hide my surprise. He totally caught
me off-guard. I have to look up to meet his eyes. Then up some more.
The face that I find is
so striking it should belong to a Greek god.
He’s younger than I
expected. Late thirties, maybe early forties.
That means he started
his company when he was younger than me!
Dark scruff lines his
angular cheeks. His jet-black hair is styled in long, natural waves. My fingers
itch to run through it.
Totally inappropriate.
He has a prominent nose
that might be too big on a less imposing man, but on him, it’s perfect.
In short, he’s a package
of the purest masculinity I’ve ever seen.
And then there are his
eyes. Oh my God. His eyes. They pierce into me like honing missiles. They are
the deepest black I have ever seen. They would be frightening if they weren’t
so beautiful. When the light reflects a certain way, you catch a glimpse of the
purple underneath.
They are
like midnight sapphires. His eyes reveal a cunning intellect. Those
eyes do not miss a thing.
Add all that to his
towering height, his wide shoulders, his confident-yet-at-ease posture… and
Stonehart cuts an intimidating figure.
My gaze darts to his
left hand before I can stop it. No ring. He’s unmarried.
He looks down at me,
expectantly. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I feel like I’m being
dissected, measured up, and tucked away in some small corner of his brain. I
imagine this is what a gemstone feels like under the magnifying class of the
most critical appraiser.
Stonehart clears his
throat. I come to with a start, realizing I haven’t said anything in ages. I
open my mouth, but the capacity for speech seems like a foreign concept to my
brain. “I—”
Somebody bumps into me
from behind. I stagger forward. I’m not used to these shoes, so my heel steps
the wrong way. My ankle twists under me, and I start to fall.
I don’t fall far. The
hand still on my elbow tightens, and Stonehart pulls me into him.
I plaster myself onto
the solid steel wall the man has for a body. I catch a scent of his cologne.
It’s a deep, musky smell with a hint of charred spruce that is all male. It
scrambles my thoughts even more.
“Sorry!” a rushed voice
calls out. From the corner of my eye, I see the postman giving a hurried,
apologetic wave.
Although the sequence
lasts less than a second, it feels like an eternity. Pressed up against him like
that, I don’t want to move. I know that I couldn’t have made a worse first
impression.
Stonehart eases me off
him with a firm yet gentle grip. Our eyes meet. I flush the most vibrant red. His
fingers graze my forehead as he brushes a lock of hair out of my face.
Any tenderness I may
have imagined vanishes when Stonehart takes out his cell. He long dials a key
and growls an order. “Steven. See the delivery boy leaving right now? Have his
building pass revoked.”
I gape. Stonehart keeps
speaking. “Wait. I thought of one better. Bar his company from accessing the
building.” There’s a pause. “For how long? Indefinitely. FedEx can talk to me
when they have an improved employee selection program in place.”
The phone call gives me
just enough time to compose myself. My heart’s still beating out of my chest.
But nobody has to know that.
I speak without
thinking. “You’re going to restrict the entire company from serving this
building because of that?”
Stonehart humors me with
an answer. “A company’s employees are its most important asset. Their behavior
reflects the organization as a whole. If FedEx decided that clown is good
enough for them, it tells me they’re sloppy. I do not do business with sloppy organizations.”
“What about the other
tenants in the building?” I ask. “Won’t that piss them off?”
When I hear myself and
realize how improper my question is, my cheeks flame red
again.
Stonehart’s eyes darken,
as if he cannot believe I asked that question. I open my mouth to apologize for
my imprudence, hating the way my professional skills have evaporated into thin
air. I’m cut off by a short, barked laugh.
“Miss Ryder.” He sounds
amused. “I believe that is the most direct and honest question anybody has dared
ask me in weeks.” He takes my elbow again and leads me to the elevators. I have
to take two quick steps to match one of his long strides.
“Yes,” he continues.
“They will be ‘pissed off.’ But the perk of owning a building—” he hits the
elevator call button, “—is that you get to make executive decisions.” He gives
me an unreadable glance as the doors open. “That is, at the risk of being
questioned by inexperienced interns.”
If that isn’t a loaded
remark, I don’t know what is. I flush scarlet red for the third time since I’ve
met him. I’ve never had a man throw me so off balance.
The elevator is packed,
for which I’m infinitely thankful. The trip up will give me some time to properlycompose
myself.
Gratitude turns to panic
when the crowd files out, meek as mice, when Stonehart steps in. None of the
people waiting in the lobby follow us.
The doors close. I’m
alone in here with him. My heart’s beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.
He catches me staring.
“Impressed?” he asks.
“They know you,” I
manage.
His dark eyes flash with
amusement. “Astute.”
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