Surrender Your Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

practical, but deceptively and irresistibly
pleasant on my skin. The black satin comes down to my knees, lined with lace in
all the right parts.
    One year. I
can’t disappear for a year, just like that, and who guarantees that Carter
Forbes will keep her promise?
    I can see the
disbelief in my face as I stand in front of the mirror once more, unable to
look away, unable to deny the sensations that come with the feel of high quality
clothes, the memory of her lips on mine. I shouldn’t yield like this. It’s
true, I haven’t dated in some time, always busy with classes, tests and the
job, but that’s only supposed to be temporary. There’s a life waiting for me
after my degree—isn’t there?
    I can’t think
about this now. I have to clear my mind, start over. Tomorrow. Tomorrow is
another day.
    The pillow is
incredibly soft when I press my face into it, my body sinking into the
mattress. Uncertainty is exhausting. Soon I’m on the verge of falling asleep,
so I’m not sure whether or not the sensation comes from a dream, or my new
surreal reality. There’s not much of a difference anyway. Fingertips brush
along my calves, so lightly it could be the breeze coming through the
window…wait. The window isn’t open.
    “Don’t move,”
Carter whispers, keeping up the light caress. Only this time, her fingers
wander higher, underneath the fabric. I hold my breath. They move back down
slowly, all the way to my feet. She begins a gentle massage. I can’t hold back
the gasp.
    “Does that feel
good?” She knows damn well it does. I’m overly aware of her touch, and
everywhere my skin touches fabric, my nipples tightening. One sensation blurs
into another, arousal pooling between my thighs, warm and liquid. Every time
her thumb presses into the sole of my foot, there’s an answering jolt of
pleasure, irrational and undeniable. Right, it makes total sense that the
villain in this story has knowledge in the area of sexy acupressure. Carter
moves to my other foot, giving it the same loving attention—sorcery. I can’t
tell if she’s really that good, or if I’m too impressed with the setup, her
coming to my room in the dark of night, starting the process of—what?
    I’m in her
hands. She loves it. I’m not rejecting the idea like any sane person would,
which leads me to the inevitable notion that perhaps neither of us was sane to
begin with. Why, it seems like the perfect match.
    My idle musings
stop abruptly when she gets up. She leans over me for a brief kiss to the neck.
I hear her retreating footsteps and a moment later, the door is falling into
the lock.
    Damn her. I was
about to fall asleep earlier, but my body is awake now, tingling, longing.
    What if she
plans to sell me to traffickers? Make no mistake, there are women who
participate in these crimes. I don’t think that’s going to happen, not really,
because obviously she wants me all to herself.
    That doesn’t
mean she’ll always be friendly.

Chapter Three
     
    The house is
quiet when I wake up, the sunrise making for a spectacular view when I walk to
the window barefoot and peek out between blades. I have to tell her to open the
blinds—it’s not like I’m going to throw myself through the window. I try, for a
moment, to reflect on my situation, my options, the fact that I nearly came
under her hands, from a foot massage no less. It’s too pathetic and
embarrassing, I decide. Focus on the small steps. Shower. Find something to
wear.
    What if one day,
or today, she forgets about me, leaving me locked up in here to starve? If
that’s crazy, well, what she did isn’t any less crazy. I wonder who did that,
going through my papers to get the ones she ordered, getting me into a car—I
suppose—and then a plane when I was unconscious, delivering me to her like some
package.
    A mail order
bride.
    I can’t help it,
I start laughing hysterically as I stand in the bathroom after the shower,
wrapped in a pristine white towel. I laugh so hard my stomach