Page 33 of Cry, Little Dove

The azure pool sparkles in the morning sun and in the middle, Erica lounges on a rainbow-colored tube float with her eyes closed. I hang the towel I got for her over my shoulder, pausing inside the patio doors. A smile tugs on my lips as I pluck a cigarette from the packet in my jeans and light it.

Hanging out in the garden after breakfast is a habit she picked up over the weeks she’s been with me. She likes to swim a few laps, followed by lazing in the water.

It started when the housekeeper came the first time. With the forged medical documents to blackmail Erica, I’m not worried she’d squeal. I assume she didn’t want to make any awkward excuses regarding our unusualsituation.

The water helps her muscles to loosen, too. She needs it. I’m hard on her, fucking her daily until she’s an exhausted mess in my arms. Tiring her out is the only way I can get her to cuddle with me or sleep on my chest. Any other time she argues my ear off.

She looks much healthier, too. Rosy cheeks, a bronze tan. A spark lights up her eyes, and it’s brightest when she makes a sarcastic remark or chucks insults at me. I don’t mind. I enjoy our verbal sparring, and she’s posturing, anyway. All her arguing is an attempt to stave off the inevitable: falling madly in love with me.

How do I know she’ll fall for me? Simply because I won’t stop fucking her and caring for her until she does.

I stride out onto the terrace, stopping by the side of the pool. “Get outta the water, darlin’.”

Erica frowns, keeping her eyes closed. “Go away, curly.”

I take a deep breath of smoke and let it out in a laugh. She hopes it’ll annoy me when she calls me curly, but I think it’s sweet. Nobody has ever given me a pet name. Nobody dared to.

Who has the guts to call serious Dr. Cain Morrow a cutesy ass name? My future wife does.

“You gotta wash off the chlorine in the shower before you get dressed, Erica. Do your makeup and hair if you want, you’re beautiful to me either way. But I expect your company tonight.”

She rolls off the float with a splash and dives. Her blurry form swims to the edge, and she resurfaces by the metal ladder, slicking her hair back. My cock thickens as she climbs out. Water runs like liquid pearls over her curves, but the best parts are hidden by a black bikini with skulls on it.

I ordered it online for her. To be on the safe side, I got a whole selection of colors and cuts, but this is the one she always wears. It’s my favorite, too.

I steal a glance at my initials on the inside of her thigh, two simple letters written in raised, pink scars. The shallow cuts healed fast under my professional care, and my jeans always get too tight around my crotch when I see my claim etched into her flesh.

I whistle and throw the towel at Erica. She catches it with a sneer but not a single word of gratitude. Typical. She dries herself and wraps it around her body, tucking it in at her chest.

“You want me to get done up so you can make me a mess again?” she asks, crossing her arms, but despite her best attempt at seeming pissed off, pink scrawls over her cheeks.

“Don’t act coy, darlin’. You love when I turn you into a mess. Lipstick smeared and mascara running, wild hair. Oh, my pretty, slutty mess.”

Her nose wrinkles. “You’re gross.”

My shoulders lift in a shrug. She doesn’t mean that.

“We’re going out tonight, little dove,” I explain.

Her head tilts like she’s shaking water out of her ears. “Come again?”

“Surely you don’t wanna spend the rest of your life in this house and on this property, never going anywhere?”

She runs a hand along the side of her neck. “I mean—”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll lock you up for good.” I throw away my cigarette and grab her wrist, pulling her in.

“No! I don’t want to stay here all the time but…” She chews on her lip. “Aren’t you worried I’m going to run away?”

“If you wanted to run, you would’ve tried it already.”

She huffs, and I can’t tell if she’s irritated with me or with herself for getting this comfortable this quickly. Little does she know I have safeguards in place if she attempts to escape for real. I haven’t completely disregarded the possibility she might snap and give it an earnest shot.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” I tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear, and the blush on her cheeks darkens. “It’s alright if you enjoy being here. This is a nice house, a peaceful home far away from your worries.”

“Peaceful my ass,” she spits. “Only if you weren’t here.”

“If you say so,” I respond impassively and embrace her. She only resists slightly. “Besides, I wanted you to have some time to get used to me and your new life before we start going out on dates.”

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