Surviving Shane: Volume One (5 page)

The room was also warm, and with all the plants, it reminded her of the garden on the roof of her father’s building. Stefania had tended it lovingly until Vadim destroyed it in a fit of rage for perceived disrespect. Her stepmother had never tried to replant, and the woman herself had started to fade gradually at that point.

Shane sat at a wrought iron table, but got to his feet as she approached. He nodded to Wallace, who disappeared without a word, as he came toward her. “Good morning, Mia.”

She glared at him. Did he really think she was going to sit around making pleasant conversation with the man who had kidnapped and debased her?

Her angry gaze raked his face, and she swallowed slightly when she saw the bruise on his cheekbone. His nose also looked a bit swollen. She had left her mark on him too, and she didn’t know if she was sickened or delighted by that. He had conquered her, but it hadn’t been an easy victory. Neither would his next attempt, or any thereafter.

“You look pissed off.”

She blinked, surprised by his words almost as much as the charming smile accompanying them. Her stomach did a slow flip, and she cursed that she could find anything attractive about the mafia man in front of her. “You look a bit rough.” She grinned sweetly at him as she deliberately touched her right cheek before flicking her finger in his direction.

“Aw, how sweet of you to notice.” He cupped her sore cheek, rubbing lightly across the swollen space.

Mia hissed slightly when he pressed against it hard enough to make her feel a little pain. Gritting her teeth, she continued to glare at him, refusing to ask him to stop or show any signs of discomfort.

Regret flickered in his gaze, and he dropped his hand from her face. In the same motion, he lifted one of hers and tugged her reluctant body toward the table. “Eat. You must be starving.”

Mia wanted to deny her hunger. After the things she had been through, she should be too depressed to eat. The Eggs Benedict and fresh fruit were too tempting though, and she knew she enjoyed food too much to even attempt a hunger strike. What purpose would it serve anyway? He wouldn’t capitulate, and it would just leave her too weak to escape when the opportunity presented itself. And there would be an opportunity. She just had to remain alert.

Seated across from him as they ate was disconcertingly normal. As she chewed, she watched his every move, waiting for him to strike out or grab her.

He sighed halfway through, placing his fork on the plate. Shane’s sea foam eyes captured her blue gaze as he looked at her intently. “I’m not going to fuck you on the solarium table. Relax and eat.”

“You wouldn’t fuck me anywhere. Fucking implies a level of consent missing from our encounter.” She swallowed the bite of watermelon though it seemed the size of a boulder, determined not to reveal the fear behind her angry reminder.

He scowled. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mia, but I will have what I want.”

She curled her lip, touching her cheek. “Never mind what it costs, huh?”

Shane mirrored her motion, touching his own bruise. “You didn’t play nicely either, baby.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Why would I? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want you.”

He lifted a shoulder. “You’ll change your mind.”

Stunned, she blinked, literally speechless for a moment. “And you’re out of yours. I don’t want to be your sex slave. I want to go home. My cat needs me, and his needs are far more important than yours.”

Shane didn’t bother to reply as he drained his orange juice. Instead, he glanced at his watch. “I have to go into the city for a while.”

Her eyes sparkled. “May I go too?”

He laughed heartily, clearly amused at her expense. “Now who’s out of their mind? It will be a long time, if ever, that I trust you enough to let you leave the grounds.”

She resisted the urge to sulk. “What am I allowed to do then, oh great master?”

“That’s a start.” He laughed again at the glare she gave him. “You can do anything you want in the house. The stables are also open to you. Keep in mind the house is monitored electronically, as are the grounds. Someone is always watching you.”

She shivered at that thought. “Is my room on the system too?”

He nodded. “I’ve asked the security guys to shut off that feed. Unless you prove yourself completely untrustworthy, you’re entitled to a little privacy.”

“So generous.” She sneered. “Well, don’t let me keep you. You must have people to murder and guns to distribute.”

He put aside his napkin and got to his feet. “Don’t forget I need to feed the last sex slave to the pigs.” His grin indicated he was joking, but his eyes were dark with a trace of warning.

Mia stilled as he walked to her side, bending down to brush his lips across her unmarked cheek. “Be a good girl, Mia,” he whispered into her ear. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant business for either of us.”

She turned slightly to meet his gaze. “You set the parameters when you kidnapped me and stole my virginity. Don’t expect me to be happy or cooperative.” He sighed a second before his mouth claimed hers in a deep kiss. Mia tried to keep herself from responding, but the persistent stroking of his tongue and gentle way his lips molded hers made it difficult. As soon as her mouth softened, he broke contact.

Their foreheads touched for a second. “You will be happy tonight, Mia. You’re going to come for me, no matter how much you try to fight me.” A small smile quirked his lips upward. “And yourself.”

She wanted to deny his words, but settled for clamping her lips together and glaring at him until he stood up and walked away. To her mortification, she was sure he was right. Shane knew enough about a woman to eventually get the response he wanted. It wasn’t just his skills though. She had to contend with her own unwanted physical attraction to the man. If he hadn’t been trying to dominate her last night when he took her so roughly, she might have ended up a willing participant.

The thought turned her stomach, and she shoved away the remains of her breakfast. The realization was appalling, but she’d rather be honest with herself than pretend there was no attraction, and he had no power over her. Forcing herself to remain oblivious would only make the situation harder for her when the truth blindsided her. Better to know and acknowledge it now, so she could try to formulate a plan to counter his control over her.

That didn’t mean she was going to let him wield that power with impunity. If he expected her to be a simpering miss that eagerly graced his bed, he really was out of his mind. Mia would not stop fighting him, even if she lost every single time.

Chapter Four

Mia had spent the day exploring his house, memorizing the layout and searching for weaknesses. She tried not to let her lack of results discourage her when she returned to her suite early in the evening. Tomorrow, she would venture onto the grounds to evaluate her odds of escape.

Shane hadn’t returned yet. Or if he had, he hadn’t made it known to her. Mia enjoyed the reprieve from him, but she didn’t have the illusion she had ever been alone today. There was always a goon hovering on the peripheral of her vision, and she had identified most of the cameras in each room. There was no way to deactivate them, at least with her limited knowledge of electronics, but she had thought it would be better to know where they were.

She’d been wrong. The sheer number of cameras—and there were likely a lot more she hadn’t been able to identify—had weighed on her almost as heavily as if Shane had attached a length of chain and old-fashioned iron ball to her ankle. There was nowhere she could go without eyes on her.

Except this room, if she could believe Shane. Did she? Mia didn’t know. He didn’t seem like he had lied to her. He was a brutal man, but he seemed to be honest in his dealings with her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be slightly soothed. Either way, she decided to believe him and at least pretend like her suite was the one smidgeon of privacy in this oasis of watchers.

A tap on her door before it opened was her only warning before the older woman in a black dress and white apron entered the room. She was about as wide as she was tall, with an unfriendly scowl on her face as she dropped the tray she held on a table with a chair near it. “Mr. O’Mara ordered you a tray and tells you he’ll be with you later.”

“Oh, goodie.” She curled her lip at the maid.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Disrespectful little harlot. You aren’t good enough to lick his shoes, let alone grace his bed.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “He’s a bit young for you, isn’t he, Fifi?”

The older woman swelled with anger, looking a bit like a toad. “I can trace my ancestry back to Cortez.”

“That’s working out nicely for you, I see.” Mia really had no issue with the older woman, but the maid had started being bitchy. “Why don’t you take yourself elsewhere, Fifi, so I can eat?” She eyed the food doubtfully. “Wait, did you make it?”

The little woman drew herself up to what must be her most impressive height. Maybe four-ten. “I am not a cook.” She sounded outraged by the idea.

“That narrows down the chances of it being poisoned then.” Mia strolled over to the tray, lifting the salver to nod appreciatively. “You may leave, Fifi.”

“I am Selena Hernanda-Fuendo, descended from an Aztec princess and Cortez—”

“As you said. You’re still dismissed, your highness.” Mia waved her toward the door, maintaining an aloof air until the other woman exited with a slam. Then she sagged. As she sat at the chair and lifted a fork to taste the tender roasted vegetables surrounding the salmon, she replayed in her mind the encounter with the maid.

The little woman had been determined to hate and belittle her before Mia ever opened her mouth. Perhaps she’d ask Shane about Hernanda-Fuendo’s open hostility, if she was stuck here long enough to care, or be subjected to the other woman’s presence for long.

She finished her dinner alone and flipped on the television. The only thing available was a Roku box, so she had no access to current events. With a sigh of disgust, she put on an episode of “Supernatural” for background noise while chewing her lip to ribbons as she watched the clock.

Anxiety built in her as the time passed. When the digital numbers hit ten p.m., she started to hope he wouldn’t come to her tonight. Maybe his mafia business would keep him working late into the night. Maybe he’d already grown bored with her and was currently screwing two bald hookers and their hermaphrodite pimp. That thought made her giggle, and she quickly smothered the sound, as though any indication of amusement would concede a point in their war of attrition.

By ten-thirty, the tension had built inside her to the point where she could scream. It was almost a relief to have her door open, just to end the anxiousness of when or if he would come that night. That short burst of release was quick-lived, as her apprehension ratcheted up to a new level when he walked across the room to join her where she had curled up on a loveseat.

Dear god, he made her mouth water, though she hated the reaction. Fresh from the shower, his dark hair gleamed where the light touched the moist strands. He wore a black robe, slung on carelessly, and the silk molded to his still-damp body. Her heart fluttered, not entirely with fear, when he ran his fingers through her ponytail, making her scalp tingle at the tender gesture.

“I’m sorry I’m late. It was a long day.”

She remained mute, incapable of pulling off snarky right then, and not confident of her ability to appear immune or remote either. Mia swallowed thickly when he brought her hand to his mouth to kiss the palm. No, that was not about the most amazing thing she’d ever felt.

Schooling her expression into one of disdain, she glared at him as he licked her hand. “I washed after dinner, but I imagine there are leftovers if you’re still hungry.”

His lips twitched. “Baby girl, you have the smartest mouth of any woman I’ve ever had.”

The way he phrased that filled her with confusion. On the one hand, she hated to be lumped in with his other women. She wasn’t here by choice, and she wasn’t one of his eager harem. She also hated a small surge of jealousy at the idea. What was wrong with her?

“Come to bed.”

Mia shook her head, tugging her hand away and crossing her arms over her chest. She kept her angry expression in place as he towered over her. The gentle lover morphed into a resigned warrior in a matter of seconds. She could practically see the transformation, and her nerves stretched taut as the awareness of an impending battle of wills filled the air.

She had expected him to try to lift her from the loveseat, which she had pressed into with all her weight, so she actually made it easier on him when he climbed on top of her. Mia arched her body, trying to shove him away. “Get off me, you oaf.”

“Keep wiggling like that, honey, and I’ll be a happy man.” He grinned down at her, emphasizing his point by thrusting his hardening erection into the apex of her thighs.

Mia went limp for a moment, but couldn’t maintain the passive resistance when he bent his head to nuzzle her neck. She yelped and renewed her struggle to escape, not liking just how much she enjoyed the tender grazing of his teeth and lips against that sensitive spot.

She scored first contact by slamming her elbow into his solar plexus. Shane grunted and lay heavily against her for a moment, pinning her against the cushions. When he was breathing normally again, his expression took on a chill. “Why the fuck do you want me to hurt you, Mia?”