She should have known better, but she'd figured it out too late. That was all Carissa could think as she lay on her back with her wrists tied to the bed, completely naked. Anders Varrceau was his name. He was one of those tall, sexy men who could use a French accent to devastating effect. He had one of those rugged faces, a five o'clock shadow enhancing the effect, and gray-blue eyes that seemed to promise things both dark and delicious. If only she'd realized just how dark…
She was three weeks into her six-week trip through Europe. The 22-year-old had had it all planned out, this reward to herself for graduating college. And then she'd met Anders in Berlin. After the nightclub he'd taken her back to his house. He'd romanced her. They'd spent a steamy night together…and in the morning she had found herself naked and cuffed to his bed with a note left on her bare chest. Remembering the words, they still struck her as creepy, demented, and yet sweet at the same time:
"Mein Schatz, my treasure, I count myself the luckiest man in the world to have met you. I love you and will never let you go, because that is what a real man does when he has found something precious: he never lets that thing go. Not ever. I'm sorry, Carissa. I know it's not reasonable to expect this of you. I know you have friends and family who will miss you very much. You will become a missing person, and perhaps those others who have loved you will learn to cope with their grief. I am too selfish. I have you in my veins. You're the drug I cannot go without, and so I will have you…no matter what. Forever. Please forgive me."
Carissa let the memory of Anders' note fall away as she heard the key turn in the lock at the front door. Her body awoke with anticipation. She could hear the light step of her 'boyfriend'-turned-captor coming up the stairs, down the hallway, until the master bedroom doorway swung wide open. There he was, the hunkiest eye candy in his impeccable, dark blazer and crisp, white button-down shirt. He stepped into the bedroom as nonchalantly as any husband returning home from work. It wasn't even lunchtime and today he'd come home early.
He looked at her as he closed the door behind him. She looked like a captured goddess. She was this gorgeous, slender young woman with long, dark-brown hair and medium-sized breasts. If he detected the pleading, haunted expression on her face, he didn't show it.
She was three weeks into her six-week trip through Europe. The 22-year-old had had it all planned out, this reward to herself for graduating college. And then she'd met Anders in Berlin. After the nightclub he'd taken her back to his house. He'd romanced her. They'd spent a steamy night together…and in the morning she had found herself naked and cuffed to his bed with a note left on her bare chest. Remembering the words, they still struck her as creepy, demented, and yet sweet at the same time:
"Mein Schatz, my treasure, I count myself the luckiest man in the world to have met you. I love you and will never let you go, because that is what a real man does when he has found something precious: he never lets that thing go. Not ever. I'm sorry, Carissa. I know it's not reasonable to expect this of you. I know you have friends and family who will miss you very much. You will become a missing person, and perhaps those others who have loved you will learn to cope with their grief. I am too selfish. I have you in my veins. You're the drug I cannot go without, and so I will have you…no matter what. Forever. Please forgive me."
Carissa let the memory of Anders' note fall away as she heard the key turn in the lock at the front door. Her body awoke with anticipation. She could hear the light step of her 'boyfriend'-turned-captor coming up the stairs, down the hallway, until the master bedroom doorway swung wide open. There he was, the hunkiest eye candy in his impeccable, dark blazer and crisp, white button-down shirt. He stepped into the bedroom as nonchalantly as any husband returning home from work. It wasn't even lunchtime and today he'd come home early.
He looked at her as he closed the door behind him. She looked like a captured goddess. She was this gorgeous, slender young woman with long, dark-brown hair and medium-sized breasts. If he detected the pleading, haunted expression on her face, he didn't show it.
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