Page 56 of Cry, Little Dove

“Your beautiful eyes. Their mesmerizing green reminds me of jewels.”

“Oh my God, shut up, curly!” She laughs again, and I want to kiss her. “You know you don’t have to flatter me to make me stay? I don’t have a choice. I’m literally your captive.”

“Exactly. That’s why you never gotta worry about me lying. You’ll always know I mean every compliment from the bottom of my heart.”

Electric silence drifts between us as she looks up at me. Questions lay heavy on my tongue. One in particular I’ve mulled over more times than I’d care to admit.

Why hasn’t she tried to escape?

I’m confident I’ll always catch her eventually, but I gave her enough opportunities. The concert. The shopping trip with Mandy. Even during the horse ride. Every day I let her roam the house and terrace freely. She could leave her phone behind if she’s worried about being tracked.

Before I fucked her with my revolver, I accused her of staying because of the incredible sex. But we both know that ain’t a good enough reason. I was just teasing her.

The time she ran into the wilds doesn’t count. That was a knee-jerk reaction, spurred on by the perceived rejection she felt when she saw me with my sister and thought Mandy was my girlfriend. I still can’t figure out why it bothered her so much, anyway.

The only explanation I can come up with is jealousy. But to be jealous, she’d have to have feelings for me, which is impossible, ain’t it?

Erica takes her phone out of her pocket and snaps a picture of the carving. She smiles as she shows it to me, smugness oozing out of her every pore. “There. Evidence of cruel Dr. Cain Morrow’s sappy, romantic side, preserved for posterity.”

I smirk, but my heart pinches when I remember going through her gallery. There were so few pictures of her and none at all with friends, except for the one with that scumbag ex of hers. He’ll get what he deserves. Very soon.

“Give me that,” I say, pointing at her phone.

“Sure.”

I take the device from Erica. My free arm coils around her, tucking her back against my chest, and I crouch, aiming the front camera at us.

“Smile, darlin’.”

She grins, tipping her head to the side, and I press the button. When I swipe up to look at the picture, Erica gasps.

“Oh my God, we’re smoking hot together!” she bursts out, flinching when she catches herself. “I mean it’s uh, a nice picture.”

And she’s damn right. I know shefeelslike she belongs in my arms, but shelooksthe part, too.

Her smile is as radiant as the afternoon sun, eyes shimmering in the light. She doesn’t seem tense or forced, but genuinely relaxed, like we’re a proper couple, not a kidnapper and his hostage. Like she’s comfortable in my embrace and not even a little scared.

“Yeah, it’s a great one,” I choke out and give the phone back to her. She tucks it into her pocket.

“Alright then, Calamity Cain,” she says. “Let’s ride back home. Emerald Erica is getting hungry.”

I nod, and she marches ahead down the hill. Before I’ve gone too far after her, I turn, stealing one last glance at the heart I carved around our names.

Erica thinks I have the upper hand, but the churning in my gut doesn’t lie. This woman who was supposed to be a quick fuck and an anonymous kill has turned me inside out.

She doesn’t know that I lost control long ago.

Erica cradles my fragile heart in her hands, and I wonder if she’d shatter it if she realized what power she holds over me. She’s the only one who can break me.

When I wake up at noon in the president’s suite in the most expensive hotel in San Antonio, Cain is gone. A note lies on his pillow.

Good morning, Erica. I’m sorry I’m not there to kiss you awake. I need to take care of some business, but I’ll see you tonight, little dove. Can’t wait to have you in my arms again. C.

An icy void settles into my chest, and I hug myself. Without Cain, I feel small and foreign in the large room high above the city, but I drag myself out of bed and go for a shower. Just as I’m about to call room service for a solitary lunch, a knock comes from the door. Amanda stands outside, armed with that sunshine smile of hers.

My mood instantly gets better.

From her suite across the hallway, she lugs in two suitcases. She insists on doing my makeup and hair, and I agree enthusiastically. How often do I get the chance of letting a professional work her magic on me? The offer is too good to pass up, and honestly, I’m grateful for the company.

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