by Roxy Harte
“I don’t know. Away. Away from everything and everyone. Away from expectations. Away from responsibilities. A long time ago I wanted to sail the world. Maybe that would be a good place to start.” I reach into my coat pocket and withdraw a small satin box. I lift the lid, showing her the diamond nestled inside. She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “I am committed to creating a new future for myself. I want that future with you.”
“Do you truly mean that?”
“Say yes. Say yes to everything so that we can get started.” I pull her into my arms. “I want you to marry me, Lin. And after our trip around the world, I’d like to find a place where we can be together and I can put my past completely behind me. I’d like to start a family with you.” I gaze into her eyes, hoping she sees the love I’m offering her, the hope she’s given me. I hope she sees our future together as clearly as I do.
“Yes, George. I will marry you, and sail around the world with you. I want a future with you more than anything else I ever thought I wanted.”
I hug her to me tightly, probably too tightly, but she doesn’t complain. She surprises me by whispering softly in my ear, “Maybe we can play bedroom games sometimes.”
“Bedroom games?”
She meets my gaze. “You could call me Mistress, and I could spank you.”
I snort at the absurdity but immediately seek her gaze to confirm she is merely messing with me. She is just messing with me, right?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gigi
Steel bars surround me. I am naked and cold, covered with filth. God knows what is on the floor besides dark stains and dust. My cell smells of urine and feces…and death. I rasp, “Help me,” but the ruin of my voice barely even emits sound now.
No one can hear me.
It has been days since I have had the comfort of even a crumb of bread or swallow of water. How long can I last this way?
I spend too much time remembering the girl who died in my parents’ basement. Was her crime also stubbornness? Did that day foreshadow how my own life was always meant to end?
I startle, hearing footsteps approach, and then Lenka comes into the room. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“If this is my fate, so be it.”
“Agree to come to me tonight, submit to me. Say the word and a hot bath will be waiting, perfumed towels, silk sheets.”
“No!” I shake my head so hard my brain seems to bounce off my skull, increasing my agony. I grab my head, holding it in my hands as I sit on my haunches rocking back and forth.
“I’ve done everything you demanded.”
I meet his gaze. “My mother is dead?”
“Yes. I showed you the photographs of her torture, do you not remember?”
I sigh, letting my eyes droop closed, remembering the pictures he tossed into my cage. Some days it is harder than others to differentiate truth from fantasy but I do remember. “And the man who called himself God?”
“I am still seeking his identity but I swear to you I will find him, and when I do, you will be the one to mete out his justice when the time comes.”
I swallow hard, so anxious for that day to come.
“Let me take care of you now, please, Giselle. Let me love you.”
I remember George’s woman’s words to me. Stop making yourself a victim. Stop seeking death. She made it sound so easy. Like flipping a switch.
“Let me take you for a walk through the forest. The snow is freshly fallen. It is very beautiful with the flakes clinging so thickly to the trees it is like cake icing.”
“That seems like a princess’s fairytale. You should know by now, Lenka, I always preferred the nightmare.”
“Even if I promised to spill your blood onto the carpet of white snow?”
I meet his gaze and see such hunger. I lick my tongue across my lips but there is no saliva and my tongue feels like sandpaper. “Tell me more.”
About Roxy Harte
Multi-published author Roxy Harte has loved erotic romance novels since she stumbled across her first at the tender age of thirteen. Since she especially loves books that offer strong insight into the characters’ psyches, as a writer she wants to provide readers with characters who are not only charismatic and engaging, but also intellectually, spiritually and sexually complex. When she started writing in earnest twelve years ago, it provided an evening respite from the full-time care of her invalid mother and Alzheimer-diagnosed father, and although both of her parents died a decade ago, she now writes so that her readers may find a small escape of their own at the end of a tedious day.
Roxy lives in southwestern Ohio in a small town bordered by fields and railroad tracks, with her husband and collegiate daughter, two boisterous dogs, Petey and Jazzi, and five cats, Miss Kitty, Sadie, Dharma, Karma and Tilak.
Roxy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Roxy Harte
Chronicles of Surrender 1: Sacred Secrets
Chronicles of Surrender 2: Sacred Revelations
Chronicles of Surrender 3: Unholy Promises
Chronicles of Surrender 4: Echo of Redemption
Chronicles of Surrender 5: Cries of Penance
Debonair Dyke
Prodigal Slave
Print books by Roxy Harte
Prodigal Slave
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Vow of Silence
ISBN 9781419940262
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Vow of Silence Copyright © 2014 Roxy Harte
Cover design by Kendra Egert
Cover photography by Christina Henningstad and Igor Kireev/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication October 2014
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