Page 5 of Cruel Master

A quick glance down at myself shows that I still have my clothes on.

He must have brought me here after...after...

I push the image of the man’s blasted skull out of my mind, but I can’t forget his words.

Here she is.

He brought me to this man—whoever this man is. The photographer wasn’t the real kidnapper. It's this man.

Whoever this darkly handsome, scary-looking man is, he's the one who's really behind all of this. He had me brought to him.

I swallow hard at the thought of a man so powerful he can have people brought to him with a snap of his fingers.

“Why am I here?” My voice quivers because I already know the answer can't be anything good, especially considering how I just saw him put a bullet through another man's head.

Shit, I thought the first guy was bad, but this guy just killed a guy point-blank in front of me, so he's got to be worse, right? I mean, I don’t know if the other guy was a killer or not. Maybe he was just a kidnapper, but I know for a fact this guy is a murderer. I saw it with my own eyes.

The man pins me with that burning blue gaze of his. My skin sears as if I've been scorched by the heat of his eyes. They’re like blue flames crackling at me.

“Because I own you,” he says stoically, his eyes rolling over my body like he's assessing a new belonging.

“Excuse me?” I want to believe I didn't hear him correctly.

“I bought you,” he elaborates. “You’re mine now.”

I stare at him. There was never really any doubt about it before, but I'm completely certain now. The man is crazy. You have to be to think you can just buy someone and own them.

I shake my head. “There's been some misunderstanding. I'm not for sale.”

“Not anymore,” his smooth voice growls, a bit of roughness scraping through it.

I bite my lip and try to keep my voice calm. I just witnessed this man murder someone. I don't want to piss him off and end up like that guy.

“No, what I mean is I was never for sale,” I try again. “I don't know what that guy told you, but he lied to me. I thought he was going to give me a job, but he kidnapped me. If he sold me to you, I assure you it was not voluntarily.”

“I know that,” the man says flatly.

I press my lips shut, my stomach sinking. I had dared to hope that maybe the man didn't realize I was here against my will and that once he found out, he would let me go. Of course, it's a long shot because what kind of woman voluntarily sells herself like this?

The man begins striding slowly toward me as he speaks softly, contemplatively, “Everyone's for sale whether they realize it or not. Some people you can buy outright, and others you can buy from other people.”

He levels that intense look at me. “Something about you told me I wouldn't be buying you outright, so I paid someone else to get me what I want.”

He states it as if it's as simple as that.

I clasp my shaking hands together. “And just what is it you want?”

He drops down to his haunches beside the bed so that his face is level with mine. My breath hitches at those blazing blue eyes suddenly so close to mine. He's so close I can see the pores on his face, the individual hairs of the stubble lining his jaw.

His scent wraps around me. It’s something spicy and citrusy and expensive-smelling. His dark hair glints with blue in the dim lighting cast by the lamp on the nightstand.

He stares at me, a somber look on his face.

My heart is beating so loudly in my ears. I'd be surprised if he doesn't hear it too.

“You,” he answers without hesitation. “I want you, kitten.” His eyes drop to my lips and darken.

My body flushes under the intensity of his gaze, and I tremble. The man is sinfully handsome, and under normal circumstances, I'd be insanely attracted to him, but this man arranged my kidnapping. He murdered someone right in front of my very eyes.

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