She cast her gaze toward the pretty, torturous dress on the bed. Despite the weight she’d lost since being held here, he had the dress altered time and again to always be one size too small.
He held it in front of her, down low. She stepped into the gown, spun on her toes to face the bedpost, twisting her bindings painfully around her wrists. She blew out all the breath from her lungs. Brice muscled the zipper up her back, taking his time and prolonging her pain as the too-tight dress closed over her bruised back and battered ribs.
His hands rested on her bare shoulders. She sucked in a shallow breath, needing the air, but hating the pain it caused as her lungs filled and constricted against the confines of the heavy dress that pushed her breasts up until they nearly spilled out the top. Just the way he liked it.
His fingers combed through her tangled mass of oily hair. He hadn’t allowed her the luxury of a shower in three days. He mussed it more, letting it spill down her back and shoulders. His body pressed against her back, pushing her chest into the bedpost as he reached above her and lifted the strap off the metal hook, stretching her arms so high it felt like they might pop right out of the sockets. She endured the painful prickles and tingling as blood rushed down her arms and into her hands. She didn’t move. Couldn’t with his body smashing hers into the post.
He dipped his head to her ear. “Don’t disappoint me tonight.”
She leaned back into him. Despite the layers of satin and chiffon of the full skirt keeping her skin from touching him, dread shivered over her nerves no barrier could stop. His arm wrapped around her middle, squeezing her already-aching ribs until they screamed with pain. She held it together, even as his thin lips pressed to her cheek.
“Has the scene been set?”
He vibrated with anticipation. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
“Then let’s begin.” A single tear slipped past her lashes and rolled down her cheek. She hadn’t cried in a long time, having spent her many tears long ago. But something about reaching the end—knowing all was lost and that she just couldn’t take it one more second—sent a wave of grief deep into her soul and shattered it.
Brice took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the back of it like some gallant knight in shining armor. He didn’t mean to save her. The devil in him wanted to destroy her. She feared he already had, but tonight would be the end.
Finally.
Like the prince in Cinderella, Brice dropped to one knee, picked up the crystal-encrusted heels, and slid them onto her feet. He stared up at her with such worship. If she didn’t know the monster behind those adoring eyes, she might actually believe he loved her.
She walked with him out of her beautiful cell and down the hallway, knowing she walked to her death like an inmate leaving death row for the last time.
At the top of the stairs, she stared past the living room to the beautiful dining room table laden with expensive white china and sparkling crystal glasses. Covered dishes held the fragrant food he’d never actually allow her to eat. The incessant gnawing hunger in her gut made her mouth water. She wanted to run to that table and gorge, but fear and painful memories froze her in place.
“Look at the beautiful garden, Aurora.”
Without a window in her cell, she craved the outdoors, the pretty landscape. Even at night, she longed to be outside where she could smell the flowers, feel the wind and any sense of freedom. But he hadn’t let her out in a long time and preferred to torture her with the gorgeous view.
At least that’s what she originally thought, but over time she realized he had some strange fascination with the garden. A look came into his eyes when he stared at it, like he saw more than anyone else.
His eyes were filled with that overexcited look right now. “I’ll go down first. Then you can have your moment and sweep down the stairs to me.”
She glanced at him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Of course.”
Brice rushed down the stairs. She prayed he stumbled and fell to his death. He hit the landing in the wide foyer and turned to stare up at her. Dressed in the elegant suit, he appeared the picture of a successful businessman waiting for the only woman he ever loved.
I am Aurora.
She embraced the numbness, swept her tangled mass of hair over her shoulder, put her trembling hand on the banister, and forced herself to take the first step to her death. She made her way down each tread with her head held high, the dress swept out behind her, her gaze locked on Brice just like in the film. She pretended this was Duncan’s New York penthouse, not Brice’s house of horrors. She showed him the regal woman while on the inside the pain and anguishing inevitability crushed her heart and soul.
Brice took her hand at the end of the stairs again. The triumphant smile made her stomach sour. He led her to the table, held her chair out, and pushed it in as she sat. She ignored the piercing pain radiating from the backs of her bruised thighs.
Just like in the movie, she held her wineglass out to him. “Let’s celebrate.” The words stuck in her throat, but she pushed them out with a breathy tone that had the anticipation in Brice’s gaze flaring with passion that turned her stomach.
Brice filled her glass with red wine just like Duncan had for Aurora.
Duncan had set up the special evening to propose to Aurora. The first night of the rest of their lives.
This would be Ashley’s last night on earth.
He held his glass up. “A love meant to be will find a way.” The line from Duncan was meant to convey the love he and Aurora found when, after months of living in the same building, probably passing each other dozens of times but never seeing each other, Duncan discovered her struggling in the pool when a leg cramp made it difficult for her to get to the edge. He rescued her. Coming from Brice to her under these circumstances, the words made her skin crawl.
She held her glass out to toast her demise.
The doorbell rang behind her, halting her shaking hand and sending a bolt of fear quaking through her body. She trembled, not knowing what to do or what this meant. Although people came and went from the house, Brice always ensured that when he let her out no one saw her. But Brice let her see them, the influential people who could help her if only they knew she was there. If only they weren’t in Brice’s pocket. He tormented her with their presence by making her watch them through the two-way mirrors in the secret passages he’d had built into the house. While they enjoyed themselves at the lavish parties Brice threw, she stood behind the glass and watched how Brice ensnared them in a trap they didn’t see.
Just like he did to her.
Brice grabbed her by the throat, his fingers biting into her skin and cutting off her breath, and pulled her close. She dropped the wineglass, spilling red wine over the pristine white tablecloth.
He growled his frustration at her clumsiness.
She clawed at his hand at her throat, desperate for air.
“I don’t know who would dare come here uninvited, but it must be important to drive way the hell out here at this hour. Be good. Don’t make me punish you, my sweet Aurora. I’ll find out what they want and send them away. Nothing will ruin our night.”
He rose and drew her up with him, pushing her back and releasing her neck at the same time. She coughed and sucked in a much-needed breath, her chest constricting against the confining dress, her throat sore from Brice’s grip. He took her by the arm and dragged her to the stairs and up. The frosted panes of glass concealed her and whoever was at the door.
“On my way. Be there in a minute,” Brice called from the top of the stairs. He rushed her down the hall and into her room, past the luxurious bed, and shoved her into the converted closet turned cell. Weak from being unable to breathe with the constricting dress and the meager food Brice allowed her, she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. Knowing better than to turn her back on a wild animal, she scrambled away and turned to face him.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll get rid of whoever dared disturb us and be back for you. We
will have the perfect night, Aurora.”
The doorbell rang downstairs three times. Brice lost the lover’s look in his eyes and gave her one last fierce frown, turned, and shoved the heavy metal door closed, rushing off.
She hung her head and breathed a sigh of relief for this short reprieve. When she raised her head again, the sliver of gray light slicing across the dark floor didn’t register at first. Then it hit her.
He made a mistake.
He left her an opening.
Literally.
He didn’t push the door all the way closed, so the thick automatic bolts hadn’t sprung home, locking her in.
No telling how long she had before he came back. She fought the instinctive fear that told her to stay put or face dire consequences that only meant more pain if caught trying to escape. Again.
Nightmares of her earlier attempts swamped her mind, but out of those gruesome images hope grew that this time, luck was on her side. She conquered her fear and moved to the heavy metal door, pushing it open an inch at a time, the muscles in her arms quivering with the effort. She listened intently for any sound of Brice’s return. Not a floorboard squeaked or footstep sounded.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she struggled to push the heavy door closed until she heard the familiar thunk of the bolts sliding into position. If Brice didn’t open the door again tonight, distracted by his visitor too long to want to play with her again, she’d gain precious time to get away undetected. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed to get away. Fast.
She crept out the bedroom door. Instead of going left toward the main staircase, she turned right and padded down the hallway past several closed bedroom doors to the back stairs. She tried not to think about what she’d seen people do in those rooms while Brice held her by the neck and forced her to watch through the two-way mirrors. At the end of the hall, she stood in front of the large window, staring at the rolling gray clouds darkening the sky and closing in fast. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a storm, but wet and cold was better than locked up or dead any day.
The urge to run pushed at her, but she fought the impulse and did the one thing sure to slow her down and put her in more danger.
She turned to the door beside her and quietly opened it. Adam sat on his bed, feet dangling off the edge, a picture book in his lap. His wide eyes met hers. She’d only seen the four-year-old a handful of times. She hadn’t seen his mother in more months than she could add up right now. Too long to leave her son if she was coming, or could come, back to him.
Maybe it was crazy, but she couldn’t leave him behind. “Do you want to go with me?”
Adam deserved a chance to make his own decision after his life had been decided for him, and she held part of the blame.
He nodded. Lucky for her, he was dressed with his shoes on. “We have to run. Get your coat and hat.”
Adam disappeared into his closet and came back with a blue knit cap on his head and one arm stuffed into his red coat. She took his hand and pulled him with her down the back stairs. At the bottom, she unlocked the French door and opened it slowly, hoping it didn’t creak and give her away. Taking the four-year-old might be the right thing to do, but it added a level of danger and consequence that might be her downfall.
After the way she’d been treated, knowing how the boy suffered, she had to do everything in her power to keep him safe.
She quietly closed the door, fighting every urge in her brain and body to bolt. No lights showed on this side of the house, but she couldn’t take a chance Brice or his guest might spot them through the massive windows facing the beautiful garden and rolling land. She couldn’t go around the front and to the road and risk being caught if they were out on the porch, driveway, or still standing in the entry. The only way to go would be the hardest path, but she’d take it and hope that she got them both away from this house of horrors.
Her heels clicked on the flagstone path along the veranda leading to the garden. She pulled them off and ran barefoot over the gravel to a huge tree. She ducked behind it, keeping Adam close. He didn’t make a sound, but pressed to her side, his body trembling as even he understood the danger they faced.
She glanced back at the house. The only lights were from the dining room and kitchen. Another light went on in Brice’s study. If she ran to the left, across the horse pasture, she’d hit the road in about a mile, but Brice could certainly see her scaling the split rail fence in her bright, light blue gown. Her only option was to go right across the back of the property. She didn’t know what lay that way, but anything was better than the punishment waiting for her if Brice caught them.
She leaned down close to Adam’s ear. “We have to run. Really fast.”
Adam nodded, squeezed her hand, and ran beside her all the way across the garden until they crossed the manicured lawn and hit the dirt beltway that separated the ranch property from the vast landscape that made up the acres and acres of land Brice owned, giving him the privacy he craved and needed to keep his dirty secrets.
Chapter Three
Brice slammed the study door and turned on his personal assistant. “What the hell are you doing here, Darren?”
“I’m sorry to show up unannounced, but you didn’t answer any of my calls or return any of my emails.”
“Didn’t that tell you I wanted to be alone?”
Darren’s eyes narrowed, but the playful smile didn’t disappear. “I’ve missed you, Brice, but not your sharp tongue.”
Right. Darren worshipped Brice. He’d practically stalked Brice for weeks to get a job and be close to him. Hypnotized by Brice’s Hollywood life, the glitz and glam, even the darker side of things intrigued Darren. He craved being a part of Brice’s larger-than-life world, knowing the inside scoop about people in the business, actors, and TV and movie projects. It made Darren feel important. The middle child of five, a nobody in his small-town high school, Darren grew up feeling invisible. Being Brice’s assistant made him somebody. And Darren wanted to be somebody, no matter what it took. Brice used Darren’s eager-to-please nature to his advantage. To keep Brice happy, Darren didn’t mind using a little force or imagination to coerce others to do what Brice wanted on his behalf.
“What is so important you came all the way out here instead of calling?” Which Brice preferred, especially when Darren interrupted the most important night of his life.
“Ashley Swan.”
Brice narrowed his gaze, hoping Darren hadn’t put the pieces together. The downside of having someone privy to your personal life the way he’d allowed Darren to be—to a point—was that they knew things that if made public could hurt you. Darren had shown his loyalty time and again, helping Brice maneuver things in Brice’s favor in business and personal matters, little things, really. But Ashley was his secret treasure.
“What about her?”
“You never speak about her, the loss of her in your life, nothing.” Darren touched Brice’s shoulder. “I know you miss her. It’s been almost a year.”
Far longer than he thought it would take her to become his everything.
“We don’t have much time. I’ve got several requests for interviews next week and appearances on some of your favorite shows. They want your insight into her state of mind in the weeks and days leading up to her disappearance. You were one of the last people to see her at the After Midnight party. They’ll show clips of the two of you on the show.”
They wanted to share his memories of Ashley’s appearances on After Midnight, the intimate conversations and dinners they shared in private—that had always been ruined by her manager, agent, friends tagging along after the show—but he’d hold on to the truth and how wonderful it had been to spend this past year with her.
Up until they got interrupted.
Darren had no idea how close he’d come to getting his head split open for showing up unannounced.
“They’re hoping the publicity will generate new leads into her disappearance.”<
br />
“They? Who is they?”
“Her lawyers, manager, agent, her mother—hell, everyone wants to know what happened to her.”
“Ashley was nothing but a money machine for all of them. Not one of them understood her and what she really wanted and needed.”
“You’ll make people understand her in a way no one else can. You were her friend.”
More than that. They were kindred spirits. One look in her beautiful eyes and he heard all she couldn’t say, all the things she wanted from him but didn’t dare admit out loud. She wanted him to take care of her, give her all the things she craved deep in her heart that she didn’t want anyone else to know.
He saw it the first time she appeared on his show. He’d read her desires in her eyes. Her smile hid the truth that she wanted him to hurry up and take her away from everyone else.
She’d told him she wanted to get away from it all.
What she really wanted was to belong to him.
She didn’t want the pressure, the demands. She didn’t want to be Ashley anymore.
She wanted a timeless love story she’d never find in Hollywood.
She wanted to bring Aurora to life and feel the love and happiness Aurora found in Duncan’s arms. Brice had transformed into her ideal Duncan. Tonight, the tenacious shreds of Ashley he’d helped her shed finally fell away, and Aurora emerged wholly and fully transformed forever.
Like a beautiful butterfly, she’d come to him tonight ready to be his forever. Perfect in her beauty and love for him.
Everything would be different now.
The thrill of anticipation rippled through him. He needed to see her. He needed to touch her soft skin, feel her breath on his face a moment before they shared that perfect kiss, and revel in her body yielding as he finally loved her the way he’d always wanted but Ashley had denied him until now. Aurora would welcome her lover with open arms. She’d welcome him.
He’d give her everything she’d ever wanted.
Brice waved Darren over to the desk where he could set up his laptop and get to work. “Stay here. I need to check on something.”
Montana Heat: Escape to You Page 2