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I stood up and he ran his gaze over my body. Unbidden into my mind came the memory of his mouth against mine last night, hot and insistent in the dark. I shook my head to clear it and followed him out into the hall. He strode ahead of me, one hand hanging casually from his pocket, his long legs moving in crisp, black pants. He was the epitome of restrained power.
We swept through the marble entrance and out into the front yard. The huge stone steps led down to a circular driveway and beyond it was a round fountain bubbling blue water. Past that I could see a strip of water and on the other side was the city like a gray smudge in the distance.
There was a black sedan parked at the bottom of the stairs. Duran moved down the steps and opened the door, his hand lingering on my lower back as I climbed into the backseat. My legs slid over smooth, expensive leather as I settled into the seat on the far end. In the middle there was a mini table with bottled water and some buttons, one of which Duran pressed and darkened glass slid down between us and the driver.
Duran settled back, crossing one leg over the other. “Where do you want to go first?”
“Olivia said to check out Evelyn’s Boutique,” I said. “But I don’t need much, just enough until you decide to finally take me home.”
He smirked. “You can buy whatever you like. This isn’t about what you need.”
“What’s it about?” I asked daringly.
He cocked his head and gazed out the window, his dark eyes unreadable. “Power, I suppose.”
I was quiet for a moment, surprised by his answer. What did he mean by that? Was he trying to claim ownership of me by paying for my clothes? Or was he trying to separate me from my old life as much as possible by getting rid of my old things? Or perhaps he just wanted to make his mark on me for all to see. I hated that the idea stirred my interest.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He dragged his eyes back to me and they burned. “I want to know you, Iris. Somehow you put your hooks in me back at the resort and I want you in my system before I can get you out of it. Yes, I want to fuck you, but it’s more than that.”
The heat was traveling up my body to my breasts and throat. “More?”
“You’re taunting me,” he said, a hint of derision creeping into his voice. “Ever since you let me have a taste…and now you won’t allow me more. I’ve always had an addictive personality and that’s what I meant by saying you put your goddamn hooks under my skin. I’d like to get my revenge on you, Iris, and I’m starting today. I’ll have you on your back and begging for it, swear to God.”
I fell silent, unbelievably aroused and yet still confused by his answer. I was beginning to realize he had a knack for opening his mouth and letting uncomfortable honesty fall out. There was something frightening about the unflinching way he spoke of his desires, something that warned me that if he fully released them I’d drown in his intensity.
He kept his eyes on his phone for the rest of the trip to the village. When we arrived, he stepped out of the car and offered his hand to help me out onto the street. I paused, close enough to feel the heat from his body, and looked up at the charming and clearly expensive boutique looming overhead. The windows were decorated in velvet curtains with mannequins clothed in all the newest fashions.
“I don’t know, this looks a little upscale for me,” I said hesitantly.
“I told you,” he said, pulling the door ajar. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
“So you can get off on the thought of having power over me later?” I mumbled as I walked past him.
“Maybe,” he said.
I pivoted. “What?”
He laughed, a rich, deep sound that warmed me. “Loosen up, I’m joking.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish.
We paused by a display of lace and satin lingerie. He glanced it over and I felt my face grow warm, knowing he had to be thinking of something inappropriate. But the gleam of the display and the layers of gorgeous fabrics pulled my eyes from his face. I ran my fingers over a lace teddy, as soft as a bird’s wing, and let them trail down a corset set with quilted, burgundy velvet. It was beautiful and felt like money, like the kind of wealth Duran was so used to.
“You want that?” he asked, his voice hot in my ear.
I turned and shook my head. “No, I was just looking.”
He blinked and stared off into nothing, an expression of longing crossing his face. Then he shook his head. “I know you want it,” he said. “Just like I know you want other things. I looked through your social media and I can tell that you long for more than what you have.”
Before I could answer, he crossed the room and pulled a dress from the rack and held it out. It was slender with a dipped neckline and a hem that would just brush my knees. The material was stretchy and the same burgundy color as the corset. I knew before even putting it on that it would fit me perfectly.
“Try this one,” he said.
I didn’t protest because inwardly I was dying to try it on. Duran beckoned the salesgirl over and she led me off to the dressing rooms and gave me a pair of black heels to try on with the dress. I slid on the silky material and zipped it up the back and stepped into the shoes. It was beautiful, all of it, and I bit my lip, staring at myself in the mirror. The simple lines of the dress accentuated my curves and the neckline allowed for a fine view of the elegant line of my cleavage.
“Beautiful.”
