Enthralled (The Enslaved Duet 1)

I’d never seen Alexander as relaxed as he was with me that day. He was still cold and aloof, unflappable, and difficult to impress, but there was a smile in his eyes that made them glow like multifaceted diamonds in the weak London light.

Experiencing him like that made me feel like a girl with a school crush, which was vaguely ridiculous as I’d never before been one. But the giddiness that rushed through me when he held my hand and led me through the crowds or pulled out my chair for me at high tea in Fortnum & Mason was enough to made me light-headed.

There was another, potential reason for my light-headedness, but I didn’t want to dwell on it before I knew for sure.

When we’d returned to the Mayfair house to get ready for the ball, Alexander stopped me on the brick path before the door and took my face in both hands.

“I want to thank you,” he said solemnly and vaguely uncomfortably, “for planning today. I haven’t had much fun in my life and none since Chiara died and… Edward left. So this was splendid.”

My heart was bright in my chest and even though that worried me just as my giddiness from earlier did, I allowed myself to feel happy because I hadn’t had much of that lately either.

“You’re very welcome.”

He stared at me for another long moment, trying to translate the words he saw written in the line of my face and the gold of my eyes. I kept my features on lockdown, desperate to hold my secrets for just a while longer.

Then, his hands slid into my hair, and he tipped my head back so that he could give me a kiss so luxe it felt like satin against my tongue.

Now, I was sitting in the bathroom before the large mirror staring at Mrs. White as she fussed with my hair.

My make-up was done, a sultry cat eye that made me look like the Egyptian Cleopatra, and gold dust that shimmered on the ledge of my cheekbones and in the expanse of décolletage that was reveal by the low-cut sheer gold dress.

Mrs. White was braiding some pieces of my hair and crossing them over the top of my head so that they looked like dark crown. I watched, my leg bouncing with anxiety, as she threaded filaments of gold through the coils so that they caught in the light.

I looked like a queen, but I still felt like the pawn, especially after spending thirty minutes the bathroom throwing up before Mrs. White appeared.

A pawn didn’t have many choices that were not dictated by the other pieces on the border.

I couldn’t even plan for my uncertain future without first trusting someone in my treacherous life to be my confidante.

“You are unusually flushed today, love,” Mrs. White noticed as she spritzed my spicy perfume over my neck and hair. “Are you feeling quite right?

“I think something at tea didn’t agree with me,” I admitted, just in case she heard me vomiting earlier.

I needed to trust someone with my secret, but I was leaning toward Douglas or even Riddick instead of Mrs. White. There was no specific reason for my hesitation, but something in my gut told me to trust one of the other men with my explosive secret.

“Well, you look a treat, and Master Alexander will be knocked off his feet at the sight of you.” She laughed delightedly and then peered at me in the reflection of the mirror as I leaned over to adjust my aching breasts in the cups of the dress. “He seems taken with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s trained me well enough.”

“No, dear, I’ve seen him with his fair share of women, and none have made him as… intense as you do.”

“He laughed today,” I told her to counteract her words. “Eighteen times.”

Her lips pursed as I revealed my hands.

My throat burned as I ached to take back my telling words.

“Listen to Mrs. White, sweet,” she advised me as she cupped my face in her plump, pale hands and looked at me in the mirror. “You are losing your lustre as knackered as you are. Let me tell you something, it is a quick end when the bloom falls off the rose…unless you have something else of value to give them”

“Give who?” I asked, confused by her speech.

“By the Davenport men. If you give them something they need, they’ll keep you even after they’ve used you.”

“Okay,” I drew the word out slowly because something about her over bright eyes and cryptic words made my flesh drew tight with goosebumps. “What could I possibly have other than my body that is any value to two of the richest men in England?”

“A baby,” Mrs. White said, and her words hit the bull’s-eye so sharply, so neatly, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it coming. “An heir or a spare.”