some.”
Based on what she’d seen so far, he would probably know a thing or two about the rich. “I’ve never seen this type of display. It’s dark.”
“It can be, yes.”
She swallowed. Those attending the auction didn’t appear the types to have whips and chains locked away in their homes—even if they were diamond encrusted—but everyone had their secrets, especially the rich. And this crowd had money. Rich and beautiful. Even Luke possessed a surreal kind of beauty and given his offer of one hundred thousand dollars for four weeks, she didn’t doubt he had money.
“And you? Do you like control?” The question was almost a dare and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she’d asked it.
He remained quiet, and for an instant she thought he might not answer. “Yes. I would not have it any other way. Surrender requires trust, something I do not easily give.”
His words gave her pause. What could have caused him to lose trust? She thought of Ben and his betrayal. Was there no goodness or truth left in their world?
She played with the beads on her purse.
The following auction items included an absurdly priced wooden paddle with an intricate design on one side, a gold chastity belt and a leather whip with a diamond encrusted handle. The last piece sold to a good-looking older man. His distinguished exterior contrasted sharply with the suggestive sexuality of his purchase.
“I don’t see what he would use a whip for,” Savannah said and brushed the skin along her arms.
Luke shifted beside her. “I can think of quite a few things.”
She licked her lips, which had gone dry, and turned to face the platform as gasps of wonder became fevered whispers.
“Ladies and gentleman.” The auctioneer’s voice rose above the murmurs. “Allow me to present one of our most unique pieces. This painting is called Mortuaria Benedictus.”
Savannah turned. “What is that?”
The side of Luke’s lips lifted in a smirk. “I believe he called it a painting.”
She frowned and gave him a slight shove with her elbow. “I heard.” Didn’t mean she’d ever seen anything like it on canvas. And considering how many art museums she’d dragged Ben to, she’d seen her fill of exotic paintings. A dark background enveloped three nudes: two males and one masked female. This was nothing exceptional, but the males’ submissive positions and the female’s blood drenched lips and fangs were something to take note of. Vampires? The word alone made her tremble. “I meant, what does it mean?”
“In English the painting is called Blessed Death,” he said. “What do you think of it?”
“Frightening, dark, lustful, perverse.” And at the base of it, oddly sensual, for some reason.
“And?”
What more did he expect her to say? “I’d say it’s fairly fantastical. I mean vampires, come on. Although, you could say such fantastical creatures give it an erotic air.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Sometimes it depends on who you ask.”
“Any other bidders?” The auctioneer scanned the room.
Several arms went up, which didn’t surprise her, but she hadn’t expected Luke’s to be one of them. “You’re not thinking of getting the painting, are you?”
He lifted his arm again, confirming a higher bid. “Why ever not?”
“I don’t know.” She turned away, her faced as heated as if she were a teenage prude. “Where would you put it?”
“The living room, above the sofa.” He stroked his chin. “It is quite a conversation piece. Do you not agree?”
“Going once, going twice, sold.” The auctioneer smacked the wooden gavel down in excitement. “To the gentleman next to the young lady dressed in gold.” His gaze lingered a moment on Savannah. “What excellent taste.”
“I could not agree more.” Luke had spoken so low, Savannah thought she might have imagined the words and yet she trembled as he braced her lower back with a hand. “They will most likely take a break. I must arrange payment and delivery of my purchase, but I have what I came for tonight. Are you ready to leave?”
The women surrounding her stood, tall and willowy, and the men gave off an almost ethereal handsomeness. The view seemed an air brushed backdrop from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Beautiful, wealthy people lost inside their own selfish world, too perfect to be true. She should know. She used to be part of such a perfectly arranged scene, but no more. “Yes.” She nodded, cupping her yawn. “I’d like to go.”
5
Society is a masked ball, where everyone hides his real character, and reveals it by hiding.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Lying back on a living room sofa, Savannah polished off her second bowl of strawberries and cream then licked her fingers. Delicious. At least she’d gone halfway healthy with fruit. She rarely indulged in cream so one day wouldn’t hurt. She placed her bowl in the kitchen sink then went down the hallway to her room.
Luke had come around nearly thirty minutes ago to say they would go out again. Unbelievable. Sunset, and he only now woke. The man obviously slept like the dead. She’d spent over a day traveling and now struggled to adjust to a new time zone, yet somehow had managed to wake up at a decent hour. After last night and lazing around today, she needed to clean up.
In her room, she closed the door and stripped off her clothes. Beneath a warm spray of water, she washed, letting the steam seep into her achy muscles. Her body wasn’t yet accustomed to travel but the next four weeks would take care of her internal clock.
By the time she’d finished her shower and blown her hair dry, she wanted another bowl of strawberries and a glass of wine. Luke probably wouldn’t pay anyone to behave like a slug, but one could dream. She slipped a blue silk dress off its hanger, pulled it over her head and let it shimmy down her body. Next, she took out a box of body tape and laid several strips on the bathroom counter. Once she’d peeled the wax-like paper off one of the double-sided adhesives, she stuck the strip to the inside of one strap and pressed the material against her skin. “One done, many more to go.”
A tiresome routine of arranging clothing to hide the most heinous of her scars, but one she’d become adept at over the past two years. Deftly applying a few strips, she secured the dress and glanced at her reflection to inspect her handiwork. A little cover up went a long way. Between the makeup, dress, shawl and layered necklace, most would see her as an attractive woman with pale, flawless skin. Few would catch the pink ridges along her collarbone and none would see the deep purple ones trailing down the sides of her ribs.
She fingered the shadowed areas beneath her eyes. These, on the other hand, were signs of a restless night. Though after last night’s strange auction, who could have fallen asleep? With Ben, she’d mingled in her fair share of wealthy circles. Though she’d never attended an event quite like last night’s, it didn’t surprise her to see
