Page 159 of To Catch a Sub

She fought the urge to thrash wildly in an effort to shake off the ugly jewelry.

“Pretty, yes?”

Damien’s question made her look up. She knew what she should say, but couldn’t get the words out.

Instead she closed her eyes against the spark of the welding tool as the first anklet was welded closed around her other ankle.

“It’s pretty, yes?” Damien said again. This time he hooked a finger through the large ring in the snake chain cuff, and jerked. Her foot slid across the floor.

It was grimly satisfying to know she’d guessed right. He wanted a form of permanent restraint. He’d be able to easily lock or hook her to whatever he wanted.

Colette held his gaze and smiled, her true self slipping through for a moment. The smile was cold and dismissive, because he was a pathetic thing that deserved her disdain and nothing more.

Damien’s expression went flat, and Colette looked down, heart now pounding. That was a mistake. She shouldn’t have challenged him.

Colette kept her head down as Tonsure finished up with her other ankle.

“What do you think?” Tonsure asked. “It’s good?”

“Yes. Now the wrists.”

Inside, Colette screamed. The cuff key hidden in her hair wouldn’t let her unlock welded metal.

Two thick lengths of snake chain went around her wrists, again closed not with jewelry jump rings, but golf ball sized O rings, creating gaudy, gold permanent cuffs.

Colette had let herself float away as they worked on her. It didn’t hurt—Tonsure always put a leather pad between her skin and whatever he was welding. It was the horror of having her small hope ripped away that held her immobile. The secret cuff key was useless. There was no way to undo these restraints. No latch, key, or buckle. They were now a part of her.

She was back to being that statue at auction, frozen and helpless. Except this time the statue was being defaced with cheap gold paint.

It wasn’t until Damien grabbed her by the upper arm, hauling her to her feet, that she realized he was still angry at the way she’d smiled at him.

She bowed her head, staying meek and compliant when he shoved her towards the drapes. She stumbled, letting herself fall against them, hoping she’d land against the break and get a peek of what was outside.

There was no need, because a second later, the heavy maroon drapes were yanked wide, revealing sheer curtains that covered the floor to ceiling window. Colette reeled back instinctively—she was naked in front of a window. Damien shoved her face-first against the glass, then leaned into her, squashing her between his body and the hard surface. The cold glass felt good on her abused breasts, at least until the pressure became too much.

“You don’t like the jewelry. You think you deserve better?”

“I do like it,” she said softly. “Thank you for my jewelry.”

He wasn’t mollified. She’d pushed him too far without realizing how little it would take.

It was night, the sky dark and studded with enough stars she didn’t think they were near any large city. She could see trees and low hills, a road snaking through them on her right. There were lights off to the left, but not many. Maybe a small town.

It could have been any one of a hundred, maybe a thousand, rural areas in lowland Europe.

Some small, stupid part of her had hoped she’d see London on the other side of the glass.

Yet more chain, this time the industrial silver stuff, was looped over the curtain rod above her head. She was pulled out of the way until the chain was secured, then positioned under it, her back to the window.

A padlock was laced through the rings of her new permanent wrist cuffs. Damien stood on a chair, forcing her up onto the balls of her feet before catching the padlock in one of the loops of the silver chain and locking her in place.

Colette swayed, shoulders and calf muscles almost instantly registering their protest at the stress position.

Damien climbed off the chair and ran his hands down her sides, pressing hard on her wound. “You don’t like the gold. You didn’t like pearls and emeralds. Maybe you thought it would be rubies, or diamonds?”

Diamonds.

She was glad she’d finally given Landon the information on the Saudi diamond. Interpol would be able to trace where it was before she bought it, and return it to the Saudi prince it was taken from. She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it that morning as they huddled around a phone in a closet.