Claimed by Her Web Master (Web Master #3) by Normandie Alleman Page B

disappointed in you, Sophie.”
    I didn’t respond. A part of me was actually afraid of what he might do to me, but I reminded myself that since I was carrying his child, it was unlikely Quentin would hurt me. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t hurt me because he loved me, but I’d never seen this side of him before. I wasn’t quite sure what he was capable of.
    “Since you have decided to be difficult I’m going to treat you the way an attorney would treat a hostile witness.”
    “What does that mean?” My heart started beating faster.
    “Come sit in this chair.” He directed me to a chair sitting in the middle of the living room.
    The weirdest thing about me and Quentin was that I’d always trusted him blindly. I had let him do the most unusual things to me, and he’d never hurt me. Sure, he’d inflicted pain, but that had been part of our dynamic, and something I’d grown to crave. So when he deceived me, I felt as though every single block we’d built our relationship on had been blown to smithereens.
    But enough of that trust in him remained because I did as he asked and sat down in the chair.
    “You’ve accused me of lying to you. Which I admit I did. My intention had been to protect you. But you lied to me, and I don’t think your motives were as honorable.”
    His words stung like a slap to the face. “What? I didn’t lie to you!”
    He wore a bored expression. “Really? What would you call it? A sin of omission?”
    I clamped my mouth shut, and focused my eyes on the floor again.
    “You know you were wrong not to tell me, Sophie. You can’t even look at me, can you? An hour ago you lied to me when you told me you’d stay for forty-eight hours. The next thing I know you’re sneaking out the front door. What were you planning to do once you left this property? Not only would you be endangering yourself, but you could also hurt the baby doing something like that.”
    “I’m sorry,” I whimpered.
    “That’s not good enough. Give me your hands.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Hold out your hands.”
    I did as he asked, as much out of habit as having no idea what else to do.”
    He took my hands and placed them behind the chair and I felt the familiar scratch of rope circling around, binding my wrists together.
    “Please don’t do it tight,” I begged, and to my dismay my voice sounded deeper—aroused. I could only hope Quentin didn’t hear it too, but that was wishful thinking. He’d spent months listening to my voice as he commanded me to do things that aroused me. He knew that sound better than anyone else on earth, but for the moment he showed no signs of taking advantage of this knowledge.
    Instead he pulled a knife out of his pocket and flipped up the blade. Light glinted off the shiny metal of the blade and made me squint. I should have been scared, but I was actually remarkably calm. There was no way Quentin would cut me with that knife. His intention was to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
    “What are you planning to do with that?”
    “I’m going to cut your clothes off your body so that you won’t be tempted to run away again.”
    That would have never occurred to me, but he was right. If I were completely naked it would definitely make me think twice about running out of the house. Who knew how close the next neighbor was, and the world was full of too many sickos to just go wandering out to the road or to a stranger’s house naked. Some people would see that as an opportunity to rape you, maybe murder you.
    I didn’t know how to respond, so I turned my head away from him and lifted my nose in the air.
    He laughed. “I love your spunk, my pet.”
    “I’m not your pet!” I spat.
    “Oh yes you are.” He slid the knife down the front of my blouse and it fell aside in two pieces. Leaning close to my ear he whispered, “You’ll always be my pet.”
    I closed my eyes, trying to wish all this away. I wanted to be home or at my hotel, away