Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

ROSE

H e couldn’t be serious.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

When I told him I would do anything to pay for his act of valor, I meant I would give him money or make a dinner reservation somewhere no one could get into. None of the things I had in mind involved nudity.

Of course, he wanted more. I saw him. I saw the way he fought with those men. Gentlemen didn’t fight like that. He must have been some kind of criminal. Who else could fight off four men? Who else would be in an alleyway like that? Just waiting for someone to fall into their trap.

I was out of the frying pan and into the fire.

My mind flashed back to all the true crime stories that a few girls at Columbia used to be obsessed with. They were fascinated by the stories involving women’s bodies being found beaten, with all sorts of horrible things having been done to them before that, and we were all hooked on the drama. The conversations afterward were thrilling, as we speculated who had done it and what we would do in that situation. It had always filled our group with this buzzing terror, horror, and false excitement, and I ate up the energy, everyone talking about how we were too smart, too prepared to let ourselves fall into that kind of situation.

I said I would never be caught alone, unarmed at night in a dark alley, but if I was, I would fight.

All of us had said that. We wouldn’t be like them. We wouldn’t be the victims of some crazed lunatic.

Now, in that same situation, the one I said I would never be in? I wasn’t fighting. I was frozen in fear. In a few years, my case would go cold and end up on someone’s podcast while their listeners said they would never be so stupid.

Fuck.

If there was ever a time that word was warranted, it was now.

“I… uh…” My arms started shaking, and I tensed my muscles, not wanting this stranger to see how terrified I was. I looked around the room and realized I did not know where I was. This was getting worse by the second.

Between being dropped off at the wrong place and getting hit and dragged into that alley, I wasn’t sure what block I was on. I didn’t even see which building he brought me into. I only knew that the hallways outside this room were dark and empty. If I screamed, I would just make him angry. There was no one to hear me. I almost wished I was back in that alley. At least out there, I had the chance of a police officer or someone more chivalrous than this stranger finding me.

When the stranger brought me inside the room, it was pitch black, and now it was lit only by a single candle.

I did not know where I was or where the door to get out of this room was located.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry with panic and tears burning in my eyes. The air was dusty down here. It was cold, but not as cold as outside, and I could smell incense and books. An office or a library of some kind, but that was it.

“I said, take off your clothes,” his voice repeated. “I don’t have all day.”

I opened and closed my mouth several times, the tears now spilling down my cheeks and fear choking me. Even if I knew what to say, I couldn’t speak.

The stranger stood in the shadows. I couldn’t see his face, but I saw his body, which was dressed in black slacks and a black button-down shirt. His broad shoulders and powerful arms strained against the fabric of his shirt as he crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for me to comply with his order.

He was big, and I knew he was strong. There was no way I could fight him off.

His thickly veined hands, with blood drying on his knuckles and covering his gold pinky ring, visibly rested in the crooks of his arms.

Even a sheltered Upper East Side princess like me knew only gangsters and thugs wore gold pinky rings, especially ones with large inlaid rubies. I’d bet the sharp edges of the stone cut the other men. Were they even red rubies? Maybe they were diamonds covered in blood?

I shook my head.

My eyes returned to the floor, and I tried not to jump with every tick of a clock from somewhere in this room. I was so on edge that even the clock’s steady tick made me anxious, like it was counting down the seconds I had left.

“Speak up, girl.” I jumped at the bite in his words but stayed silent. “When I speak to you, you will look at me.”

I couldn’t do it. I was frozen in place, unable to move except for the trembling in my arms and legs.

“Jesus, look at you. So pathetic. You’re shaking, like one of those ridiculous dogs in purses.”

“Please,” I whimpered, still staring at the dark wood floor.

“What was that? I can’t hear you when you mumble,” he said, leaning closer to me and entering my personal space.

My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and I backed away from him, sliding down the leather couch until I reached the arm. I was about to bolt away, or at least try, when his hand grabbed my arm and held tight. He leaned over the back of the couch, hovering over me close enough that I could almost make out his features in the dim light. There was something familiar about them, but I couldn’t place what it was.

“Where do you think you are going?”

His voice was low and dark, and sent a fresh wave of terror washing over me.

“Please, I just want to go home. Please let me go. I can pay you. I can?—”

As soon as I started talking, I couldn’t seem to stop. I was blathering on, and his hand stayed tight on my arm.

“Please, I can pay. Do you want money, gold, or jewels? I’m sure I can?—”

“I have no need of your jewels,” he scoffed. “Take off your clothes.” His own large hands moved to his collar to unbutton his shirt.

My heart pounded, and a cold sweat broke out over my back as I looked around, needing to find something to fight him off with, somewhere to run.

The only thing I could see in the room was a glint off the gilded edges of books.

“Look, take this, take it as a deposit,” I said, clawing the gold Cartier watch from my wrist. I never really liked how the watch looked, but it was a gift from my father, and I loved it. But not as much as I loved breathing. My father would be disappointed I had lost it, but not as disappointed as he would be if my life or virtue weren’t intact.

The stranger stripped off his shirt and held it out to me.

“You’re filthy. Take off your shirt and put this on. Your clothes smell like that alley.”

“Oh,” I said, taking the shirt from his hand and carefully laying it down so it didn’t touch my soiled clothes.

I looked at myself, and he was right. The pretty purple cashmere sweaterdress I was wearing had a few stains and smelled like several things I didn’t want to examine too closely. Even my thick leggings had muck plastered to them.

It was tempting to get out of these clothes and into the thick, rich material of his button-down. I could just see the brand printed on the inside of the neck.

Rhone.

Harrison preferred that brand in the winter. The fine Italian fabric was soft and light but woven so tight that it would still keep me warm.

“Promise you won’t look?” I asked.

I had to hold back my gasp when he turned. I knew he had broad shoulders, but I wasn’t prepared for the golden sun-kissed skin of his back, the lines of his muscles deepened by the low lighting. My mouth watered, and now my heart was pounding, my face heating, for another reason.

“See, my back is turned. You can change. I won’t look.”

The fascination turned to mortification. I thought he was going to attack me, but I was the one staring at him like some little lovestruck girl. Acting as if I had never seen a back before… well, I hadn’t, especially not that toned and?—

I shook the thought out of my head. I needed to change quickly before he turned back around.

Even though he wasn’t facing me, I could still feel his eyes on me.