Uncovering You 5: Confessions (13 page)

I pick up the two airline passes and look them over.

Departure: December 27, 2013. 0800H. Portland, Oregon (PDX).

Arrival: December 27, 2013. 1700H. Fort Lauderdale, Florida (FLL).

“Florida?” I ask, puzzled. “You’re taking me to Florida?” I don’t have the strength to consider the implications. By now, I know that I should just go with it.

“Yes.” Stonehart smiles. “You didn’t think I’d let Rose ruin the real surprise, did you? This is the trip I envisioned for us when considering your Christmas present. So there you go, Lilly. Merry Christmas.”

***

Dinner passes with no more unpleasantness. A tension exists between Stonehart and me. But, whereas I am negatively affected by it, he seems to thrive on it. It builds and culminates and comes to its natural climax back in the hotel room where Stonehart tears my clothes off and fucks me raw the moment we get in. His desire and passion is both powerful and overwhelming. He takes control of my body with no consideration for my state of mind.

Of course, I’d gotten used to that when I was in the dark. If there’s one thing Stonehart taught me to do, it’s detach all emotions and feelings from sex.

Much later, when he is slumbering beside me in the massive bed, I’m lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling, and trailing a finger back and forth over the smooth side of my collar.

Sleep is impossible. I keep thinking of Paul, of my mother, of my past. Trying to decipher how any of it can be connected to the virile man sharing my bed.

I sneak a glance at him, and then look away. Asleep, he looks almost human. Almost. Almost like any other man would. Nothing about his body or face gives any hint to the monstrosities he’s responsible for.

It’s astounding, really, that he trusts me enough not to do anything to him while he’s so vulnerable. How easy it would be to sneak to the kitchen, find a sharp knife, and bring it back to the bedroom. I wouldn’t even have to use it right away. I could hide it under my pillow, always within reach. Then, in the morning, when he inevitably wakes up hard and starts to put his hands on me…

I shake my head to change the trajectory of my thoughts. That would be easy, yes. Too easy. And where would it land me? My life would be forfeit. I’d be known as the harlot who murdered one of the most successful businessmen in the country. I’d go down in history with the Lee Harvey Oswalds of the world.

I am not that desperate. Not yet. I hope that I’ll never be.

Seeing Paul renewed my sense of purpose. I don’t want Stonehart dead. I want him damaged. I want him to suffer. I want him broken, irrevocably, mentally broken, the same way Paul is.

And I want to be the one responsible.

I lift the blanket off and step out of bed. I’m nude except for the collar. Stonehart says I’m not allowed to wear anything when I’m in his bed.

But there’s a robe hanging off the closet door. I pick it up and go to the window, then look out over all the city lights. I have no idea what’s going on in the world. Briefly, I consider Fey and Sonja. I wonder how they’re holding up, what they’re doing. If they tried to contact me for the holidays…

I sigh and turn away. Those aren’t things I should be thinking about, either. The only thing that should concern me—the only thing that
does
concern me—is the person sharing the hotel suite with me tonight.

So, with that firmly in mind, I settle into an armchair and begin to plot.

If Stonehart is upset to find me out of bed the next morning, he gives no indication of it. I’m cheerful and full of energy as I pour him the coffee I’d brewed.

“I want to leave within the hour,” he informs me. “I trust that’ll give you enough time to get ready?”

“Yes, but all I have are clothes for this trip. Rose didn’t pack me anything for warmer weather.”

He gives me a look fit for a misbehaving child. “Do you really think I’d come unprepared? You’ll find a full wardrobe waiting for you aboard the jet.” He looks at his cups and quirks his lips. “You didn’t spike this with something? Cyanide, perhaps?”

“Oh, Jeremy.” I slap his arm playfully. “Don’t be so suspicious. It’s perfectly safe.”

He frowns at my uncharacteristic behavior, but makes no comment.

***

An hour later we’re out of the hotel room. Three hours later we’re in the air.

Florida
, I think.
I wonder what’s waiting for me in the sunshine state.

Stonehart mostly ignores me during the flight, instead tending to business on his laptop and smartphone. With little in the way of mental stimulation available, and with me pretty much exhausted following my sleepless night, I close my eyes and try to nap.

The next thing I know, I’m being awakened by Stonehart touching my arm. “Lilly,” he says softly. “We’ve landed.”

I struggle upright. “Already?”

“You were out the entire flight,” he smiles. “I think our activities last night took their toll on you. I took the opportunity to wrap up some lingering issues at Stonehart Industries while you were asleep. For the next week, I am entirely yours.

“And you, sweet Lilly,” he says, trailing a finger along my jawline, “are entirely mine.”

His hand stops beneath my chin. He turns my head up.

Our eyes meet. He holds my gaze for a long moment. He seems to be searching my face for… something. What, I cannot tell.

“What did you get up to last night?” he muses to himself. “After you left our bed?”

My chest seizes in sudden guilt. He can’t suspect me yet. Can he?

But then I realize how stupid that worry is. Maybe I was too transparent when I greeted him this morning. But, there’s no way he can read my thoughts.

He was right: I do tend to attribute too much power to him.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, then blink and turn away.

“Hmm.” Stonehart steps back and adjusts his jacket. “In either case, we’re here. You should know that I’ve had this trip in mind from the moment I first saw you.”

When I didn’t yet know you were watching?
I wonder.

“Where are we going, Jeremy?” I ask. “What do you have ready for us in Florida?”

“Ah.” He smiles again. “A bit of a red herring, that. Come now. It’ll all make sense once we’re outside.”

I follow him off the jet. As soon as the doors open, I’m struck by the sudden humidity. And the heat. After the cool, air-conditioned interior of the cabin, the shift is quite jarring.

Of course, there’s a limousine at the ready for us. This one is white. Stonehart walks me down the steps and opens the door, and then motions for me to go first. Our bags are loaded in the trunk by one of the flight attendants—Cindy, I think her name was.

Once that’s done, we’re off.

“The brooch looks lovely on you,” Stonehart comments. “But we won’t be needing it where we’re going.” He leans across and gently, almost tenderly, unclips it.

By now, the mystery is seriously getting to me. Didn’t Stonehart say I have to have the brooch on at all times in public? And unless he brought me to Florida with intentions of never leaving his property—whatever it is—I don’t see why I suddenly wouldn’t need it.

Unless that
is
his intention. Maybe a week spent locked up together is his idea of romance.

Then again,
he
can come and go as he pleases. It’s only I who have to be bound by the perimeter.

“Where are we going, Jeremy?” I ask again. “I think I deserve to know. Unless you plan on springing another
Paul
-esque surprise on me.”

“No. My intentions are much less devious than that. In fact, you could say that they’re quite simple. I merely want to spend an uninterrupted week with the woman who is quickly becoming the most important person in the world to me.”

I scoff. “But all for your own hidden reasons, isn’t that right?”

“My reasons are my own,” he agrees. “I don’t want concern with them spoiling our time together. For the next week, you are forbidden to make mention of them again.”

I open my mouth to protest—then clamp it shut again.
It’s just that easy for you, isn’t it
? I think.
One word and the entire world jumps at your beck and call.

Well you just wait, Jeremy Stonehart. You wait. I’m going to strip you of your power. Somehow, some way, I will do it.

And then we’ll see what type of man you really are
.

“Fine,” I say. “But you still didn’t answer me.”

He chuckles. “Are you in a position to make such demands?”

“A clear answer for once would go a long way toward establishing that ‘trust’ you so frequently mention.”

“Patience, my dear.” He smiles and looks me up and down. “You must have patience. The ride won’t take long. Look outside your window. Enjoy the view.”

Grumbling to myself about Stonehart’s incessant secrecy, I turn my attention outside. The limo has just left the private airfield and we’re heading along a narrow road winding its way by the water. The ocean sparkles even in the dying light. I find myself thinking of the freedom it represents—a freedom permanently denied to me.

But freedom isn’t what I crave any longer. Justice is. My own, personal blend of justice that will match Stonehart’s depravity.

For that, I have to stay close to him.

We go along a wide bend in the road that curls along the coast. I see very few other vehicles. Anticipation about our final destination is killing me. Will it be another hotel? A condo on the beach? Some luxurious mansion Stonehart owns but rarely frequents?

Maybe it’ll be a resort. A wild, crazy thought occurs to me: Could Stonehart have emptied an
entire resort
for the two of us?

I sneak a sidelong glance at him. I can’t put it past the man. He certainly has the means to do it, and the motivation. It’s the only way taking off the brooch would make sense.

A billionaire,
I remind myself.
You’re sharing a limo with a billionaire
.

More than a limo. I’m sharing my entire
life
.

It’s funny—considering my upbringing—how infrequently I’ve thought of Stonehart that way. How many women would kill to be in my position? How many would eagerly sign their lives away on the dotted lines of
The Contract
just for the chance of even a minute of Jeremy Stonehart’s attention?

Too many
, I know for sure.
Like the secretary I found him fuckin—

My thoughts come to a grinding halt. A wave of nausea and disgust washes over me. One thing we’ve never discussed in earnest was what I found going on in his office that night.

Share a limo. Share a bed, share my life. Share a venereal disease
.

“Are you clean?” I burst out, without thinking.

Stonehart blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You gave me your bloodwork once before,” I say. I think of the countless times he’s fucked me without a condom. Which has been every single time. How many other women has he had on the side since then? “That was a very long time ago. Are you still clean?”

His mouth forms a thin line. “This is about Angelica, isn’t it?”

“Just answer me, dammit!”

“No.” The word comes as a savage growl. “Not before you tell me why now, of all times, you bring this up.”

“Because I want to
know
, Jeremy!” I exclaim, exasperated.

“You should
know
that I want to keep you in perfect health.”

“That’s not what I asked you!” His deflections are so frustrating I could scream. “Just give me a straight answer. For once. Please. I have to know. For my own peace of mind.”

“And if I’m not
clean
?” he challenges. “If I’m not, what difference would that make? None!” There’s heat and ferocity in his voice of a kind I’ve never witnessed before. “You’d still be mine, Lilly. Your body would still belong to me.
You
would belong to me, for the length of the contract, for the subjugation of your debt. Don’t you forget that. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“How can I forget?” I spit at him. I tug on the collar around my neck. “This thing’s still here, isn’t it? And it will remain for however long you decide. It’s a constant reminder that I’m not your lover. I’m not your woman. I’m your prisoner.”

“A prisoner by your own hand,” he snarls. “You signed the contract, Lilly, not I. I gave you a choice. I gave you an out.”

“Starvation?” I laugh. “Dying in the dark? Is that what you call an ‘out’, Jeremy?”

“You’re jealous.” His eyes are storming. They pierce into me like jets of flame. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Jealousy. God! I thought we were past this, Lilly!”

“Jealous?” I scoff. “Of who? You and your
whores
?”

“THERE HAS ONLY BEEN ONE!” he screams.