Priceless (Ruthless Doms 1)

I open my eyes. “When do we return?” I ask. “When will we arrive in the new location?”

“Very soon,” he says. “We have one more night.” Leaning down, he kisses my forehead so fiercely I gasp. “I will not take you tonight.” His voice breaks in a vehement whisper. “Not tonight,” he repeats.

He releases me. I drop my head to his knee, my cheek lying on silky fabric. Nicolai found me. And together, we are going to escape the danger we’re both in. Running a hand along my hair, he gently brushes it from my forehead.

A noise sounds on the other side of the door.

“In bed,” he says so loudly, I start. I open my eyes and look up at him. He’s pointing to the bed. When I don’t move to obey right away, he bends down and slaps my ass. “I said, bed, slave.”

Oh, God. I have to pull myself out of the revelation and back into the present. I didn’t realize what he was doing at first, but now I see he speaks loudly so the others hear, so they don’t lose respect for him for not forcing me to obey. I get to my feet. He’s pulled the covers down and pointed to where he wants me to sleep.

I climb into the bed, and I don’t want to take my eyes off of him. I lie on my back and watch as he walks about the room. It’s the first time I’ve really looked in here. It’s a large room for a cruise ship, with a massive bed, a sitting area, and a bathroom to the right, but I don’t really care about the details. It’s luxurious, draped in golds and ivory, but I don’t care. I don’t want to look away from him.

My memory still falters a bit, and it sets my heartbeat to pounding harder, faster. I am trying… I can’t remember… I don’t remember anything about the night we were taken from each other. I remembered him in my captivity, I know I did. The memory of him was the one beacon shining in the darkness of my tortured existence. I held onto that. Whatever else they did to affect my mind did not erase him completely.

He stands before me, as tall as he was before, of course, but thinner. Leaner. Muscled and strong. He has tattoos, but they’re different from what they were before. I want to ask him how he did that, but I have to pretend he is my master. Speaking out loud is dangerous. I know this much.

But I can whisper. So I do.

“I love you,” I say so low, he doesn’t hear me at first.

“What was that?” he asks curtly. “Did you say something?”

I almost don’t want to repeat myself. I know he’s putting on this persona so we don’t arouse suspicion, but it’s hard to reconcile the stern master before me and the man who gave up everything to save me, though even that man was stern and serious.

He raises a brow. “I asked you a question,” he says. “What did you say?”

I freeze. Then something prompts me to point to myself.

I.

Then my heart.

Love.

Then to him.

You.

His gaze softens and his eyes gentle. One corner of his stern mouth quirks at the corner, and he nods. Accepting my silent admonition of love. Then he points to himself. His heart. And back to me.

I love you.

One day we will be able to say it aloud to one another. But for now, this is all I need.

After he’s stripped to just boxers, he joins me in bed and shuts out the light. I close my eyes, overcome with emotion at feeling him behind me. I am on my side and Nicolai is behind me. Holding me. He tucks one strong arm over my belly and holds my hand. I stifle the tears that will fall. I don’t want to be a blubbering mess tonight. I just want to be his.

I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve experienced since my captivity.

I wake with a start. It’s hours later, pitch black outside the little sliver of glass of our window. I blink. Someone was screaming. Why is someone screaming?

Then I realize it’s someone right outside our door. I sit up in bed, startled. But I can’t move. I’m not allowed to help someone who’s screaming, and if they find me—

I blink. Where am I? Why am I not allowed to help them?

“Back to sleep,” Nicolai orders. “You can’t help her. Go back to sleep.”

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come. I toss and turn, unable to drown out the tortured sounds.

“Someone is hurting her,” I whisper to him.

He sighs. “Many people are hurting many people.” But he doesn’t tell me to hush or to go to sleep again. Instead, he rolls over onto his back. “Lie your head on my chest.”