“No, wait—” she began, then pressed her lips together. What was she going to say? Please don’t leave me alone with him?
In the tense silence, she felt his eyes on her. She also smelled him—that same delicious, intoxicating smell that had been all over her in Seattle until she’d scrubbed it off. Ana maintained her cool for several minutes before she was unable to bear it any longer. She raised her hands to remove the blindfold herself.
His hands caught her wrists and gently lowered them to her sides. “I said, I’ll take care of it.”
In the dark, his voice was even sexier. Harder. Hotter. Ana felt her body respond with a rush of moisture between her thighs. Her nipples tightened underneath her shirt, and she imagined they stood out like little soldiers at attention. Years of faking arousal, and after one meeting this man made her want things she’d prayed she never would.
Smoothly, he lifted the blindfold from her. Ana blinked. She immediately took several steps back and shook out her hair. She looked around her, taking in the classy foyer that broke off into a huge great room and two hallways; anything to keep her gaze from locking with his. Unfortunately, everything she saw—the thick carpet, the dark velvet curtains, the wrought iron banister, and fancy mirror on the wall—only served to make her feel small and out of place. “So, this is it? My home away from home?”
“That’s going to be up to you. Want to see it from the outside?”
“Yeah. Just to make sure there are no bars on the windows.” She wasn’t really joking.
Ty led her back down the steps, going slowly. Her shoes crunched over a graveled driveway until he stopped and turned her around.
Ana sucked in a breath. Wow.
The Belladonna mansion was a classic example of southern architecture in the grand style. The towering white columns on either side of the mahogany doors were taller than her whole house back in Seattle. Above them rose a second story with its own colonnaded veranda.
Ana lost count of the windows. Most likely those were the bedrooms, situated there by the original builder to take advantage of every breeze.
It almost looked like a movie set. Old magnolia trees with large trunks and huge dark leaves dotted the beautifully landscaped grounds. Flowering shrubs brightened the stone foundation of the mansion. Set well back from it were other, much smaller houses and outbuildings. Ana recognized one as a stable. A horse draped in a blanket was being led out, stepping high, on its way to a white-fenced paddock.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Nice.”
He seemed amused by the one-word answer. “Look between the trees—there, to your right. That’s the Potomac.”
“How about that.” The river seemed wider than she’d imagined, even from this partial view. Its flowing water had a dull gray sparkle.
“I’m glad you’re so impressed,” he said dryly. “I’ll tell you more about the house later. Right now I’ll show you to your room, you can have some time to yourself, and then the orientation will begin.”
“When do the other women arrive?”
“Soon enough.”
Something in his tone made her freeze. “When—?”
“I told you, Ana,” he said patiently. “First you talk with Carly. You decide if Belladonna’s for you. And then you turn yourself over to me.”
“You never said—”
“What’s wrong? Afraid to be alone with me?”
She lifted her chin. “That cuts both ways. Aren’t you the tiniest bit afraid I’ll murder you in your sleep?”
“Not at all.”
When she shook her head at the confidence in his voice, he smiled.
“Believe me, Ana, if you and I ever end up alone in my bedroom together, the last thing I’m going to be doing is sleeping. I’d advise you to remember that. Now, I’ll show you to your room.”
She was flushed and thrown off, especially as she remembered the power of that erotic dream she’d had about him. “Fine. I could use a shower,” she said as she began to follow him.
“Is that an invitation?” he murmured.
She stumbled slightly. Her heart sped out of control. She hadn’t meant it as an invitation, but she suddenly wanted to pretend that she had. She wanted to grab Ty’s face and kiss him. Hold him. Love him.
And the sad truth was, that word was slipping far too easily into her vocabulary where he was concerned.
Yes, she was hoping to enjoy more time with Ty, but she had to be realistic. Him loving her? It was never, not in a million years, ever going to happen. She was here to do a job, that was all.
Narrowing her eyes, she stopped, kept smiling, loosened her clenched fists, and stepped up to him. “Of course it’s an invitation.” She trailed her fingers up his chest, then abruptly dropped her hand along with her smile. Her gaze dipped down to his crotch, then back up again. “If you want me to finish what I started in Seattle, take me up on it. This time, I promise I won’t stop until your balls are in a box.”
“Careful, princess. Remember what happened the last time you went after me. Or do I need to remind you?”
She stiffened at his threat. At the reminder of the way he’d beaten her—with the simple caress of his lips against her. And he knew she was reliving that moment because he lowered his gaze to her mouth and smiled. Then, quietly, gently, he stepped back and started walking again, leading her upstairs. Within minutes, he stopped at a heavy wood door and opened it. “Enjoy your shower,” he said before walking away.
She walked into the spacious bedroom, taking in the antique canopy bed, stone fireplace, comfy armchair, and small antique desk topped with a potted orchid. Gingerly, she pulled back the heavy duvet and ran her fingers over the white, crisp sheets that felt heavenly. And then she cursed herself for imagining herself covered in nothing but those sheets … and Ty.
Twenty minutes later, the water streaming down on Ana in the shower began to cool. Even so, she was reluctant to leave the marble sanctuary that was bigger than the bedroom she and Gloria had slept in growing up. Doubts assailed her as she thought back over her recent encounter with Ty.
Had she done the right thing by coming here? Did she really think she could hide her attraction to Ty long enough for him to train her? And who the hell was Carly, anyway?
She supposed she was about to find out.
With a sigh, she shut off the water, got out, and dried herself off with a towel. Maybe she should forget all this. Leave and start over yet again. But …
Naked, she sat on the bed, her head lowered in defeat.
She had nowhere to go. No place she belonged. That had never been truer now that she’d sold her business and given up her lease in Seattle.
Her eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed, Ana got up to pull on her clothes. As she turned, her gaze caught her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Quietly, she backed up until her entire body was visible. This far away, she couldn’t see the scar on her face, or those on her body, but she knew they were there. With her fingers, she tracked them: the one across her belly that she’d gotten when a rival gang member had jumped her; the ones on her right arm caused by trying to hop over a barbed wire fence; and the worst, the ones across her thighs, the raised, mottled, ugly burn scars from when her own mother had taken a pot of boiling water and thrown it on her to shut her up.
She’d only been four at the time, but she could still remember the pain, physical and emotional. The emotional had been the worst. She hadn’t been able to comprehend how her mother, the woman she loved despite the fact that Mama had no kind words for her, could do that to her.