The sudden shock at his gift was evident. “What do you mean, when you aren’t around?”

He chuckled. “No, Claire, I’m not setting you free; you have more debt to pay and you need my guidance. You’ve learned so much in this short time, and you have much more to learn. You won’t leave the grounds alone. If you aren’t with me, you’ll be with Eric, and even then, it’ll only be with my permission, but I need to travel to Europe for at least a week next month.” He grinned. “You’ve behaved well.” The track he’d been tracing suddenly extended over her buttocks and thigh. “Very well, and you’ve followed my instructions much better than I would’ve given you credit for a few months ago.” His hands roamed. Claire’s eyes closed and she willingly responded to his slightest inclination. “As a matter of fact …” His tone became playful. “… I believe that right now you would do as I say.”

Her lids opened, veiling her eyes with her lashes. “I would,” she purred.

Tony wondered if Claire knew how totally erotic her accommodating tone was to him. Was it real, or was she performing for her job? He didn’t know. He did know that he had needs and desires, and if she was in this accommodating of a mood, the instructions were on the tip of his tongue. Grinning, he said, “I think we should continue to test that theory, but first, I believe you’ve earned the ability to do some shopping for yourself.”

For a moment she seemed lost in thought.

“Claire?” Her gaze focused. “Let’s see how well you can do with instructions tonight.”

Everyone can be manipulated. It’s most successful by people who’re closest to you.

—Aleatha Romig, Convicted

Tony looked up from his tablet and peered toward Claire as the car in which they rode wound around the twists and turns of the country roads near his estate. She was staring out the window, quieter than normal. Tony figured that the reason was his preoccupation with his work. Since they’d touched down from New York, he’d been busy with the onslaught of emails, and she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working. Sneaking another glance, he tried unsuccessfully to read her thoughts or decipher her mood. It was something that he didn’t particularly like; he owned her—all of her, including her thoughts. Most of the time, his acquisition was an open book. The fact that she could, at times, successfully hide or mask her true emotions irritated him. Usually, he could look at her and intuitively know exactly what she wanted or needed. Her eyes were the key. Sometimes they held a fire of confrontation even when her lips spoke obediently. It was quite the sight to witness, her battling with herself. Tony found her internal struggle very entertaining; however, what he currently witnessed was a newer phenomenon. Claire’s expression, including her eyes, was of complete contentment—no, perhaps, indifference. There was something about her body language that didn’t match.

Maybe he’d pushed too far during his celebration yesterday? He remembered going back to his New York apartment and finding her asleep on his bed. He hadn’t intended for the afternoon and evening to go as it had, but one thing led to another. Besides, it didn’t matter. He had the right to push as hard and as far as he wanted. Claire had a job to do, a role to play, and her satisfaction with her job was inconsequential. She would do what was required of her, or she’d face the consequences. Perhaps that was what she was thinking about as they approached his estate—how her life was truly out of her hands, in every way. Oh, if only he could confirm that. It would please him to no end, to know that she had finally succumbed completely to his obvious authority.

Exhaling, he realized he’d lost interest in the information on the screen of his iPad. Closing his eyes, he defined the woman next to him. She was his acquisition, his prisoner—a sacrificial lamb for the sins of her forefathers. She was his; he needn’t concern himself with worries over her emotional well-being. After all, her physical needs were more than being met. He’d spent a fortune to rid her of debt. She lived on a multi-million-dollar estate, and her clothes, as well as food, were amply supplied. She also had an active sex life. While pleasing her wasn’t his top concern, she obviously enjoyed herself quite a bit of the time.

Tony worked to push his thoughts away. He had a lot to accomplish before he left for Europe, and truly, Claire Nichols’ happiness, or lack thereof, needn’t clutter his radar. As they neared the estate, he remembered his last conversation with Catherine. He knew that she didn’t mean her comments the other morning. After all, she’d apologized for them. Glancing again at Claire, he questioned if his behavior yesterday afternoon and night was incited by that conversation. He tried to deny it, but Catherine’s concerns ate at him. Even now he was thinking about that conversation:

At a little after 3:30 AM, there was no need for formalities. Catherine didn’t knock or address him with any sort of conventionality as she opened the door to his office, secured her bathrobe, and began speaking, “Just because you can’t sleep, doesn’t mean that I don’t. Tell me why on earth you summoned me here at this ungodly hour. Besides, don’t you need to leave for New York this morning?”

“Good morning, to you, too. I will be leaving in a few hours, and I woke you because I’m taking Claire. You need to pack her things.”

Catherine shook her head. “You’re what? Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m taking Claire with me to New York, and I believe that perhaps it’s you who’s delusional. This early hour has taken your candidness to the extreme. Do you have a problem with my decision?”