chapter 4

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"No. You're different."

Unsure what he meant, she ate two sandwiches and handed him the plate back. His hand on her leg was moving in circles up and down and along with her knee.

He placed the plate back and handed her a cup of steaming tea. Violet didn't know what was happening. Should she demand to get off his knee? Scold him for forcing her to do something she didn't like? Men usually were polite, and they smiled at her. Nothing this dominating.

Demon was in control, and she couldn't fight against it.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Don't you know?"

He smiled, and his free hand circled her waist. "I want to hear it from your lips."

Violet looked down at her tea. The brew was sweet, and she didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't like it.

"I don't know what to do," she answered him honestly.

"Relax." He placed her cup on the tray and held her in his arms.

The entire situation was bizarre.

After a time he picked her up and moved upstairs with her. Violet held onto him and let him. In the short time, she'd been in his company she'd come to realize arguing was useless.

He opened a door at the far end of the long corridor. She saw the large four-poster bed, but he didn't put her down. He went to one of the three doors along the opposite wall and placed her on her feet in the bathroom.

Demon went over to the large bathtub and began filling it with hot water. He tested the water and came back to her. Violet held her hands up to protect her clothes. She didn't want him to see her naked.

"I'll leave you to wash and rest. When you come out there'll be a nightgown waiting for you." He leaned down and brushed her lips with his and then left.

Violet waited long enough to make sure he'd left completely before unbuttoning her blouse and removing her skirt and underwear.

She walked to the bathtub and tested the water. It was perfect, and she got in. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to relax. Nothing was going to happen to her. She was safe. Being alone in the world had never been a problem for her. She had troubles like everyone else. For the most part, her mother had tried to spare her the harshness of her life. Escaping had been Violet's only option. Escaping and never getting close to anyone was the only way she could survive.

It would only be a matter of time before she had to leave. Demon was determined to get too close. She closed her eyes and saw her mother. The beautiful vision she'd been when entertaining one of her guests.

****

"Listen to me, Violet. You're better than this. I never want you to feel as if you have to live this life. Do you understand me?" her mother asked.

"I don't know what you mean." Violet was thirteen and developing her body. She knew what her mother did to pay the rent and put food in their bellies. The constant stream of men unnerved her all the time. Especially the man who stayed and took half of her mum's money.

"If I'm not here one day, baby, you've got to promise me you'll run. Run and never look back no matter how hard it is. The priest can help you."

"You're scaring me," Violet said.

Her mother grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "You're not a little girl anymore, pet. They'll see you and begin to want you. You've got to keep yourself safe. Promise me that no matter what happens you'll be safe. Promise me."

Violet couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face. Her mother made sure no man came near her. She did not even go to school, just to private lessons from the parish priest whenever he had a chance. She had no one but the love her mother could offer.

"I promise," she said and held onto tightly to her parent. Like many times before, her mother locked her bedroom door. Violet stayed in her room. Her hands wrapped around her knees as the sounds of violence penetrated the walls. There was nothing she could do. Mother always locked her door. No matter what she heard she could never leave her room.

****

Violet opened her eyes and gasped as the stabbing pain in her heart was too much. Her mother might have been a whore, but Violet had loved her with all of her heart. Taking the soap from the side of the bath she lathered her body and washed. Her hair took the longest. Her usual floral shampoo was still at home. She settled on the lavender-scented hair wash. When she was done and the fear of the past had abated a little she grabbed a towel and dried her body.

Would Demon be waiting on the other side?

Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she entered the room. He was nowhere to be seen. A nightgown lay on the bed, and she saw he'd switched the light shades on either side of the bed, casting a soft glow around the room. Not bothering to take in her surroundings she put the nightgown over her head. It was a silk gown that opened to her chest and settled around her ankles, its color was a beautiful peach.

She found a brush in a drawer and began to untangle the mess of her mid-back length hair. Going to the salon to get it cut seemed like an unnecessary expense. Her hair grip was in the bathroom. She wore her hair down and climbed beneath the sheets. Tired and exhausted from the day as soon as her head hit the pillow, the darkness consumed her.

****

Demon sat in his office and took another gulp of his strongest whisky. Having Violet in his house was supposed to make him feel easier. Instead, his nerves were on end. Something didn't add up about the woman in his house. Picking up the file he'd made on her, he glanced through the paperwork. There was nothing new he could find. She was an only child with no parents. Her mother had passed away some time ago. According to the file, nothing brilliant stood out about Violet Moore.

Swinging down the last of his drink, he picked up the phone and dialed his friend and lead security man, Tate Allen.

"You're calling me a little early. Doesn't the bad Dom come out after dark?" Tate said.

"Don't start. I've got a job for you, and I'll make it worth your while."

"You know the only thing I want."

They'd argued many times about what Tate wanted. Demon refused to give her to him.

"I told you no," Demon growled.

"Then I can't help you."

Tate hung up the phone and Demon slammed his receiver back down. Pouring himself another shot of whisky he picked up the phone and dialed his number again. Tate wanted Rebecca Black for his own. He'd found her in a strip club being abused by an asshole who was into pain. He'd promised to help and keep her safe.

"My deal sticks. I'll not do anything for you without her, Demon. I promised you I'd take care of her. Nothing has changed," Tate said as soon as he picked up the phone.

"What about your friend, Kevin? Will, he still takes care of her?" Demon didn't want to get into this argument.

The woman he wanted was upstairs and, he bet, lying in his bed. He wanted to go and join her. To hold her in his arms. Not have to sort through making deals with men for women.

"Kevin wants her, too. We'll take care of her. We've promised you several times."

"She's delicate."

"You either want us to do this job, Demon, or get off the phone. I'm tired of this bullshit. You can't keep Rebecca from us forever. She's ours."

His grip tightened on the phone. "Fine, but I've got to be present at your meeting. If she doesn't feel comfortable with you, you call it off, deal?"

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