I went back to the living room and sat stiffly on the sofa to wait. After a minute I pulled out my phone, started to write him a text, then erased it. I considered calling Eleanor but wasn’t sure what I’d say. A stranger named Henrik (sp?) picked me up and brought me to an apartment that may belong to your brother. Can you tell me where I am?
Time crept by. When it got dark, I turned on a lamp and sat fidgeting in the pool of amber light, my stomach roiling with hunger and fury.
I did not appreciate being confined by a six-foot five mute. This wasn’t the way to get me to talk, or write a favorable article, or whatever Marc wanted me to do. I no longer cared about the impression I made. I was going to text him right now, and to hell with his reaction.
Just as I grabbed the phone from my bag in the living room, the screen lit up with an incoming message. Please bathe and dress for dinner. You’ll find a box containing everything you need in the guest room closet. You have one hour.
Marc? I wrote back. You have one hour – what was this, boot camp? Did he really think he could just kidnap me, lock me up, and order me around?
I waited five minutes, but there was no reply.
What is this about? I typed, punching the phone’s screen as if to break it.
You wanted to know where it leads.
Yes. So?
So. This is the beginning.
CHAPTER TEN
Fifty-two minutes later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror wearing a dress I’d found in a box printed with the name of a French boutique. I’d expected sexy and revealing, but Marc had given me demure, an ice-blue Grecian wisp of chiffon that fell to my knees, leaving my neck and arms bare.
Even the lingerie was elegant, a simple white mesh bra and bikini panties that left nothing to the imagination. He’d saved overtly sexy for my feet, which were strapped into stilettos nearly as high as the prostitutes wore in Amsterdam. But instead of black patent leather, these were made of navy silk, with ties that wrapped around my ankles like the strips of torn pillowcase at the chateau.
Lingerie, I thought, my eyes shining brightly in the mirror. He bought me lingerie.
I pictured the anonymous note still hidden in my bag and felt a glimmer of fear. I couldn’t imagine what was coming. If Marc could tell someone to take me from the train station and isolate me in an empty apartment, he might be capable of anything.
I jumped at the sound of a key in the front door. After one last look in the mirror, I went to the living room and stood by the fireplace with my hands clasped behind my back. The apartment was dark except for the lamp I’d switched on earlier.
I heard heavy footsteps in the entryway. Out of the blackness a face appeared – Henrik, the driver from this afternoon.
“Where’s Marc?” I asked.
“Come,” he said, as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Come where?”
He shrugged and tilted his head toward the door.
I let out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Who the hell does he think he is, keeping me waiting like this? I’ve been here almost three hours.”
Henrik just stared at me and shrugged.
If I hadn’t been so desperate to escape the apartment, I’d have torn off the dress and called a hotel just to make a point. Instead, I followed him to the elevator and down to the waiting car. There was no one inside. I got into the backseat and slammed the door shut before Henrik could do it for me.
He drove through the heart of Paris as if giving me a tour of the city’s famous monuments and bridges. The top of the Eiffel Tower appeared briefly above the treetops, then vanished behind us. For a while I could see the river, until that vanished, too.
Eventually he double-parked on a side street and opened my door, smiling but saying nothing. Taking my elbow, he led me to an unmarked door guarded by a maître d’. They exchanged a few words and we went inside. The room was a windowless cavern, filled with elegantly-dressed people eating by candlelight. We walked past the tables and down a short set of steps. The walls seemed to close on us the further we went, the ceiling dropping lower above my head. After what felt like ten minutes of walking through dim passageways, Henrik opened an arched door and gestured for me to go inside. I did, and he shut it without following.
The room was lit only by white candles. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw Marc standing near a table set formally for two.
We looked at each other in silence. None of my images of him, replayed obsessively in my mind, approached seeing him in person. While I’d pictured his features, the angle of his jaw, and the muscles in his forearms, I’d never been able to picture his presence. What it was like to be looked at by him, to feel real for the first time in days.
“Bordeaux?” he said, holding out a glass filled with red wine. How a man could make a tailored black suit look so panty-meltingly gorgeous was beyond me. He might as well have been naked for the way my heart was pounding.
I took the wine but didn’t drink. “I don’t understand why I’m here,” I said.
“I think you understand perfectly well,” he said, pouring himself a glass.
“Whatever the reason, you didn’t have to abduct me from the train station.”
“Abduct you?” He laughed, a rich rumble I hated myself for finding sexy. “Henrik told me you went willingly. You got in the car under your own power.”
“Only because I thought your sister sent him. Why did she tell you my plans, anyway?”
He lifted his broad shoulders as if the answer were obvious. “I asked. I wanted to see you, and picking you up at Gare du Nord seemed convenient for all of us.”
“You could have just invited me to dinner.”
He nodded. “I could have invited you to dinner, yes, but dinner isn’t the point.”
Patience worn dangerously thin, I glared at him. “Really? What is the point? I’d love to know.”
“Acquiescence,” he said. “Obedience. You permitting me to treat you in any way I see fit.”
I squinted. I couldn’t believe the arrogance, the sheer, maddening conceit. “I haven’t given you permission for anything.”
“Haven’t you? You’re here, wearing what I told you to wear, at the time of my choosing. You waited for my instructions and didn’t leave the apartment.”
“I couldn’t leave,” I said, chin raised. “I was locked in.”
“Were you? Are you absolutely sure of that?”
I had never actually tried the door. I’d assumed it was locked from outside, or operated by a key I didn’t have. “I didn’t have a clue where I was,” I said. “Is that your apartment? Do you live there?”
“I keep it for guests. I thought you might like to stay there instead of a hotel.”
“It would have been nice if you’d asked. You know, it’s amazing. I haven’t consented to anything so far but you act as if I have.”
Though he paused, his arrogant expression didn’t change. “You’re right,” he said. “In my eagerness to see you again, I may have been a little too forceful. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
I took a long sip of wine and felt it trickle warmly down to my empty stomach. “So, why did you want to see me?” I asked, fist on my hip. “I’m still waiting to find out.”
“I’ll tell you,” he said. “But first, come to the table and sit.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re hungry. I can tell from how testy you are.” He extended an arm toward me and smiled. That smile, wicked and sweet at the same time, shattered any defense I had left. I wanted more than anything to turn away, but I couldn’t.
Fingers shaking, I took his hand. We sat side by side on a brown velvet banquette. A waiter appeared through a door at the back of the room and filled my water goblet. She was dressed like the waiters I’d seen in the front room – in a dark gray man’s suit with a blue silk tie knotted at her throat.
“I’ve ordered the tasting menu for us,” Marc said. “All right with you?”
“It’s fine, thank y
ou,” I said.
As soon as the waitress left and we were alone, I turned to face him. “What changed, Marc? Why did you bring me here?”
His gaze was steady and darkly serious. “You’re here because I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you left. One night with you destroyed years of self-discipline. It’s my fault for allowing it to happen but I can’t stop it.”
“You can’t?” I rolled my eyes. “But that’s exactly what you did.”
“I didn’t last a week, Sophie. Look – you said you wanted to see where this can go. So we’ll start tonight.”
We will. Not we can, or would you like to, but we will. I’d never met someone who approached life as if he owned it. “I’m going back to the United States in five days.”
“Worlds have changed in less time,” he said without a moment’s pause. “In a few hours you undid eight years of restraint. It seemed very easy for you.” His gaze was so intense I could feel my face burn.
I crossed my arms and tried to look as defiant as I could in a flowing Grecian dress. “Let me play devil’s advocate here. If I agree to this, then what? I fly home and we forget it ever happened?”
“Then…we see.”
I raised an eyebrow. “We see?”
His gaze was stormy and seductive. “Can you spend the next week with me, not knowing how it will turn out?”
“That’s not much of a proposal,” I said, and sipped my wine.
He smile was as confident as ever. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To know what happens if you let yourself go with me? What more do you need?”
I hesitated. What if I turned him down? One night had been pure bliss, or as close as I’d come to it without an orgasm. If I lost the chance at an entire week, I’d never know what I might have felt or experienced. But I might save myself more heartache than I could imagine.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “You make it hard for me to think.”
I could see a corrupt pleasure in his eyes. “Do I? I know just how that feels.” He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. Bending his head, he kissed me softly with just his tongue, slipping it lightly against the tip of mine. Then our lips touched and I couldn’t hold back a soft moan.
How could I? How could my body be so aroused after I’d been kidnapped and kept waiting?
I forced myself to pull away. “That wasn’t fair,” I said.
Marc stroked two fingers along my jaw line. “Oh, you have no idea. There are so many ways I can be unfair to you.”
Now I was just plain curious. “Like?”
“Spread your legs for me and I’ll show you,” he said.
“Here? No.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “The waitress could come in.”
“Which doesn’t concern me at all. Now, open your legs.”
He was so close, so mind-blowingly hot, I could hardly think. With a glance toward the door, I parted my knees.
The mere brush of his palm against my lower thigh made my entire body quiver. In one smooth, practiced motion he slid a hand under my dress and into the white mesh panties. “Marc, stop.”
“Why?”
I was too spellbound to reply. Fingers moving as gently as butterfly wings, he rubbed and teased my clit. I clutched his wrist, wanting to push him away and pull me against me at the same time. He kept his hand steady, circling, enticing me, refusing to give me more.
“Please,” I whispered. “Not here.”
“But this is what I’m talking about, Sophie,” he said, kissing the side of my throat. “You do as I say and we both enjoy it. All you need to do is follow my orders.”
Overtaken by sensation, I felt my eyes closing and my head dropping back. “But if I follow orders, aren’t you going to hurt me?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
He ran his tongue behind my ear, sending a shivery ache down my back. I arched in pleasure as he thrust two fingers inside me. He had intensely masculine hands, with strong wrists and fingers that practically demanded compliance.
“Is this helping you make up your mind?” he asked in a low voice.
I grabbed weakly at the lapel of his suit jacket. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“I know,” he said. “But we can’t stop ourselves. That’s how it is when we’re together.”
Raising his other hand, he lightly rubbed one of my nipples through the fabric of my dress. I had never been this close to an orgasm with Trevor, no matter how hard I’d worked at it. But one touch from Marc and I was lost, incapable of rational thought.
“One week,” he whispered. “Say yes.”
Pride and desire locked talons inside me. If I said yes, I might be lost. No, and I could be riddled with regret for a lifetime.
He was waiting for my answer. I had to decide, now. I raised confused eyes to his face and wet my parched lips with my tongue. “Marc, I…”
The door swung open silently as the waitress entered holding a large silver tray. My knees trembled with relief. For the moment, I was saved.
Marc removed his hand and I quickly yanked down the hem of my dress. Face betraying no emotion, the waitress set the tray on a stand and slid a plate in front of me, murmuring, “Mademoiselle.” She served Marc next, asking a question in French before he dismissed her with a simple nod. The door shut behind her and we were alone again.
“You’re lucky, Sophie,” he said, running a hand briskly through his hair. “You have until after dinner to give me an answer.”
I crossed my legs, grateful for a bit of distance and a moment to think. “And if I don’t?”
His wolf-like smile made me shiver. “I’ll assume you’re saying no. Which will only encourage me more.”
*
We ate side by side and feasted on filet mignon, caviar with crabmeat and lobster, seared foie gras, and mushrooms with parsley butter. The food and wine seemed to relax Marc, making him more like the man I’d had lunch with a week ago.
“I love that you aren’t afraid to eat,” Marc said, wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “You have a sensual side most women would try to hide.”
“I think it only comes out in France,” I said. “You might be the very first person to see it.”
“You’re not usually like this?”
“Let’s just say that my ex-boyfriend liked very thin women.”
“With huge inflated breasts?”
Nervous as Marc had made me tonight, I had to laugh. “How did you know?”
“That seems to be the taste of a lot of American men. I’m not sure I understand it, but to each his own.” He lifted his wineglass, tapping it with a light ring against mine. “To your lovely and very real body.”
“And to yours,” I said, blushing as soon as I said it. I’d never been so grateful for the camouflaging effects of candlelight.
He leaned back, glass in hand. “How long did that relationship last, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Let’s see,” I said, pretending to think. “From two summers ago until he slept with an intern from his office last month.”
He grimaced. “Ouch. A fresh wound.”
“Not really. I hadn’t been satisfied for a long time. In every way.” Damn Marc. He always made me tell him more than I should.
“Ah. I thought I sensed something like that, but I wasn’t sure.”
“It was that obvious?” I was probably the least sophisticated and experienced woman he’d ever known, practically a virgin in terms of sexual experience.
“I’m just attuned to you, that’s all. I doubt another man would have noticed.”
I spooned the last of the mushrooms onto my plate. “We’re almost finished with dinner and you still haven’t told me why you changed your mind about me.”
“I didn’t change it,” he said, resting his arm on the back of the banquette. “You did.”
I cocked my head at him. “How did I manage that? I haven’t seen you in a week.”
/> “Let’s just say you’re pretty hard to forget.” He said this as if it were something he hated to admit.
“But you were so sure you didn’t want to see me again.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts. “It was the force of a very long habit. I’ve been fighting this since I discovered the background I come from, but I haven’t always succeeded. Whenever I dominated a woman, it felt like giving in.”
“To what?” I asked.
“To whatever immoral impulse plagues my mother’s side of my family. When you have a man like Sade in your bloodline, you question everything you do. You wonder what’s you and what’s the sick vestige of a lunatic.”
“Does it matter? You don’t really hurt anyone, do you?” I watched the side of his face, almost afraid of the answer.
“Not like he did, but I want every action to be my own. Dominance for me means feeling in control and out of it at the same time. I avoided that dilemma for eight years, until I met you.”
Every time he flattered me I felt knocked off kilter, unable to remember why I was resisting him at all. “I don’t know anything about it,” I said, “but aren’t there supposed to be limits?”
He shrugged. “Safe words, hard and soft limits – I think they turn the experience into role-playing. If you’ve already decided how far you’ll go, then it’s nothing more than acting. Going up to the edge without looking over.”
“But if there are no limits, how would you know if it’s too much for me?”
He began to rub the back of my hand with his thumb. He was always hot, his skin scorching compared to mine. “Because I’m not a lazy lover. I pay attention. I can sense what you’re feeling by your breathing and the tightness of your muscles. Sometimes I won’t stop even then. I’ll push you just beyond what you think you can do. That’s often where we find the greatest pleasure, beyond our limits.” He gave me a long, searching look. “So, what do you think? You’ve had all of dinner to decide.”
I knew it was crazy to even consider such a proposal. Most women probably wouldn’t. But most women hadn’t spent the most thrilling night of their lives in Marc’s bed with their wrists and ankles tied. They weren’t sitting next to him wearing an outfit he’d chosen, breathing in the sensual musk of his skin. They hadn’t survived a broken-hearted vacation convinced they’d never see him again.
Descended (The Red Blindfold Book 1) Page 10