Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(37)

Maria was losing herself to those thoughts when she heard the lock begin to turn. She held her breath, waiting to see who would enter, then an older man in a suit came through the door. “Ms. Maria?” he asked, politely.

“Yes.”

“If you’d like to follow me.” He turned and held the door open for her. Maria ignored her trembling legs as she rose from the couch and made her way across the day room and to the . . . butler? She thought he was a butler. A mansion of this size no doubt came with staff.

“This way, please,” he said. Maria self-consciously pulled at the t-shirt she wore, trying in vain to protect her modesty. The butler didn’t even give her a second glance, just dutifully led her upstairs. Did he know too? Know about the nature of the men he served?

Maria didn’t see anyone else as she passed through the mansion, through countless hallways adorned with paintings and furnishings that she assumed would be worth millions. Gabriel had obviously trusted that she wouldn’t try to run. She wouldn’t. She had no idea where she even was.

Finally, she was brought to a familiar door. The butler knocked three times. Maria’s heart pounded just as loudly as the butler’s hand rapping on the wood. She heard footsteps approaching from the other side. When the door opened, Maria had to swallow back her nerves. Raphael stood on the other side. His lean, muscled torso was bare, and he wore only a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. His feet were bare too. Raphael’s cheeks were flushed and his dark hair fell over his forehead, the messy strands only emphasizing his incredible beauty.

“Sir,” the butler said, breaking through Maria’s thoughts. The butler walked away. Maria watched him go until he disappeared around the corner. When she turned back to the doorway of Raphael’s room, he was waiting.

“Little rose.” Raphael’s voice was low and soft, seductive. Confusion flooded Maria’s body. He’d told her if she escaped, if she ran, she would be punished. He didn’t speak to her as if she were to be punished. “Are you coming in?”

Raphael’s voice was as smooth as the silk that draped over his lean hips. A small smile was etched on his full lips. The look was devastatingly handsome. His dimples showed, and his long lashes kissed his upper cheeks when he blinked. He still wore the silver upturned cross in his left ear.

Maria made her feet move over the threshold. She heard Raphael shut the door behind her. Then she felt him move closer to her back. Her breath was labored, her feet rooted to the plush carpet beneath her feet. “Come,” he whispered in her ear, his sea-salty and fresh water scent cocooning her. He walked farther into the room. He paused when she didn’t follow. Raphael held out his hand. “This way.” His lip twitched. “I won’t bite.”

Maria put her shaking hand in his. His palm was warm. Maria’s heart beat an irregular rhythm as Raphael folded his hand securely around hers. It felt like the hold of a lover, protective, nurturing. Not that she would know, but from what she had observed and read it seemed familiar. Raphael led her to the closet. When he opened the door, she had to blink at what lay before her. This was the same closet she had been bound and gagged in, and yet it wasn’t. All of Raphael’s clothes were gone, and in their place was a rail of white floor-length dresses. They had thin straps, and slits up their floor-length skirts. Maria swallowed when she saw that they were slightly sheer. She looked away, and her eyes traveled to the bed in the center of the room. It was also dressed in white. The mattress and comforter looked plush and soft. White pillows lay at the top of the bed. Maria’s stomach rolled when she saw bright red roses in a vase on a side table. A lamp illuminated the room.

“Do you like it?”

Maria turned her head to Raphael. It wasn’t until she glanced down that she realized her hand still lay in his. She went to pull it away, but Raphael held on tightly. He moved before her, and Maria couldn’t look away from the mesmerizing sight of his golden eyes if she tried.

“I want you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

Maria knew she should have kept her mouth closed, but she had to ask, “Why?” Her gaze roved around the room. It was the prettiest room she had been in in a very long time. Her attention snagged on the roses again, and she had to fight back the tears the red blooms threatened to cause, the painful memories they tried to evoke. “You told me that if I escaped, if I left the room . . . there would be punishment. This . . . this feels like a reward.”

Raphael sighed and dropped his head. He looked up at her through impossibly long black lashes. He was perfection. She feared she would never get used to his stunning looks. “I was angry that you left,” he said and dropped her hand. Maria couldn’t help but notice how empty her hand suddenly felt. “I can get angry sometimes. But I’m trying to be better at controlling it.” Raphael’s lip curved up, a flicker of a smile ghosting on his mouth. “I thought there was no time like the present to start.” Raphael ran his hand over the back of his neck. To Maria, the move looked nervous. But she kept her guard. She knew she shouldn’t believe a word out of his beautiful mouth. “I had the staff make up this room for you while you’re here.”

Maria inhaled a shaky breath. “And . . .” She straightened her shoulders. “And how long will that be? That I’ll be here . . . with you?” She didn’t want to ask the real question—how long before he would kill her. Maria would rather face death blindly. She didn’t want to count down her days.