Tears of Tess by Pepper Winters Page A

doesn’t want to bow, then don’t force her.” The masculine voice reminded
me of glinting steel, shaped with precision and strength. It was the sound of
authority, and despite my best attempts to rebel, I bowed on my own. The sheer
weight of his voice compelled obedience.
    The
guard’s hand left my back. He chuckled. “If she doesn’t want to bow, perhaps
she wants to crawl.”
    My
back snapped upright, and I jumped a mile. My new owner stood directly in front
of me. Hands in his slack pockets, head cocked slightly to the side, as if
inspecting a piece of art.
    “She
may crawl if she wishes,” he murmured.
    “I
do not wish,” I snapped.
    Once
again, our eyes connected and I searched for the evil like the men in Mexico,
but he guarded himself too well. Nothing gave away what he thought, even the
emotions I’d seen before were gone.
    We
stood staring for moments, before the guard behind me cleared his throat.
Shattering the fragile silence and condemning me to whatever would happen next.
    “Laissez-nous.” The man waved a hand toward the exit. Instantly, the guard left along with a
few others I hadn’t seen lurking. The rustle of their suits sounded like a
death sentence as they siphoned out the door.
    Oh,
God .
    My
eyes flicked to the left, where a massive library beckoned. Sultry mahogany,
rich maroons, and gold bookcases.  A roaring fire beckoned to read a book, and
slouch in the wingback chairs huddled around the flames.
    To
the right, a ginormous lounge full of comfortable designer sofas and chairs. Animal
hides of zebra and tiger littered the floor, and huge glass doors reflected me
standing under the bright lights of the foyer.
    The
man stood an arm’s length away. Tears thickened my throat.
    I
dropped my gaze, unable to look anymore. Tiredness descended, and all I wanted
to do was sleep—to escape this nightmare. 
    “You
won’t be able to run,” he said, watching closely.
    I
sucked in a breath. “Who says I’m going to run?”
    His
lips, smooth and well defined against his five o’clock shadow, twitched. “I
smell it on you—the scent of prey. You’re looking for a bolthole, somewhere no
one can find you.” He leaned in, sending a cloud of expensive cologne around
me. “You’re different, I’ll give you that. They didn’t break you, but don’t
think you can fight me. You won’t win.”
    My
heart seized. His tone bordered on angry. He was angry at me ? I was the
victim here. My chest swelled with indignation. “What do you expect? I was
smuggled here. You bought me. I didn’t come freely. Of course, I want to
run.”
    His
body flinched and mouth pursed. “I’ll allow that one indiscretion. Push me
again and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” His unusual pale green eyes dropped, intimately
following my contours. He stepped forward, so close his body heat tingled.
“There are things you need to understand.”
    I
wanted to step back, to keep distance between us, but it would look weak.
Instead, I stepped forward, practically pushing my chest against his. “The only
thing I need to understand is you’re a monster who bought me. You stole my
life. My loved ones.” My voice cracked, but I plundered on, “You took
everything. That’s all I need to understand.”
    His
hand reached to touch my cheek. I sucked in a breath as he ran the pad of a
thumb along my jaw, then his eyes flashed with amazement as if shocked he’d
touched me. Dropping his hand, he wrapped long fingers around my elbow. “Come
with me.”
    My
skin flared beneath his touch, heart raced. I twisted, trying to remove him.
“Let me go.”
    Eyes
seared into mine. “You are not in a position to order, slave.”
    Was
it his French accent, or the word slave, making my stomach roll and toil? Nerve
endings sparked with rage. Bastard. “I. Am. Not. A. Slave.”
    He
slapped me, not hard, but the punishment put me in my place.
    I
bit my lip, staunching the flow of unwelcome tears as he carted me into the
library. With a heavy