12 Chapter 12

Riley rubbed at the headache building in her temples. She shoved her office chair away from her desk, rolled toward the door and smacked the light switch, turning off the bright overhead lights. She closed the door while she was at it, muffling the shop noises. She sighed in satisfaction. That felt so much better. Closing her eyes, she sat in the darkened office and just enjoyed the feel of the fan blowing across her bare arms and shoulders for a few minutes. The accounts weren't going anywhere.

Neither was the gift-wrapped box shoved to the edge of her desk. She was pretty sure it was the prospect of the box that was giving her a headache. The beautiful, tastefully wrapped silver box with a white bow had been distracting her from the moment it arrived in the garage. She'd quickly signed for it and whisked it away from the curious eyes of her mechanics. A quick peak at the hand-written card had confirmed her suspicion.

Riley,

Wear this tonight.

Yours,

S

She hadn't opened the box. It was too small to be clothing unless it was intimate apparel, in which case she was going to drive to his estate home on the edge of the city and burn it to the ground. Which would be extremely dangerous. Or it was jewelry, which wasn't something she wanted from him. Which is why she'd had the box for three hours without opening it. And managed to complete exactly two out of the fifteen invoices she needed to finish.

She groaned when her iPhone began playing House of The Rising Sun, the Sons of Anarchy version. She opened her eyes and reached for it. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the number. She hadn't been brave enough to put his contact information into her phone, but she'd memorized the number. She'd been secretly hoping he would just never call her back. She let it go to voicemail. Seconds later it began ringing again. She cursed the man for ruining her favourite song.

Helplessly, she swiped her black painted fingernail across the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. "Soloman," she acknowledged.

"Hello, Riley," he said, his deep voice caressing her name with satisfaction.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly.

"Why haven't you opened my gift yet?" he asked, a chiding edge to his voice.

She sat up straight, her elbow hitting the edge of the desk with a thump. She sucked air in through her teeth and rubbed her elbow while looking around in consternation. What the fuck? How did he know she hadn't opened his gift? Did he have eyes on her or something, or did he think he just knew her that well? Either option wasn't particularly acceptable. She glanced up at the camera she kept in her office in case of break-ins.

"I'm not interested in your gifts," she said coldly. "You can take it back."

He didn't say anything for a moment, then he spoke, more forceful this time, less indulgent. "Open it, Riley. Do it right now."

The breath caught in her throat. She knew he wasn't in the shop, she would have seen him. Yet her body went cold as though he were right there, commanding her to obey. She had the urge to reach for the box. She clenched her fist against her thigh, curling her hand against the faded, oil-stained denim. She shook her head, her ponytail swaying against her back.

"No."

"You do not want to play right now, Riley. I am reaching the end of my patience with your resistance. Remember my words. I will drive down to your little shop right now, shut it down and bring you home, where you can serve me on your knees. Is that what you want, little girl?" His words were rough, but they wrapped around her like smooth silk bonds.

She shivered and opened her hand, sliding her spread fingers along her thigh, wiping away the sudden dampness. She shook her head again and whispered into the dim interior of her office, "I don't want that."

"Good girl," he purred. "All you have to do is open the box and look inside."

Without speaking, she reached out and pulled the box across her desk. Papers fell to the floor as she tipped the box into her lap. She ignored them. Bracing the box against her stomach, she jerked the bow open and flicked the top off. Her eyes widened when she saw what was inside. She held it up with shaking fingers so she could see it in the little bit of natural light filtering through the blinds.

"Oh my god," she gasped, staring in dismay at one of the most incredible pieces of jewelry she'd ever touched.

"Wear it tonight with something appropriate," he instructed.

She shook her head, eyes wide. It was beautiful. It was barbaric. She couldn't possibly wear it around him. Everyone would know it was a stamp of ownership. His ownership. She dropped it onto her desk as though it were a handful of spiders.

"No," she said clearly.

"No?" he repeated, his voice taking on a steel edge. "No, you won't wear it, or no, you won't come out with me?"

Taking a deep breath, she answered him, eyes never leaving his gift. "Take your pick, Soloman. I don't want to play this game with you. Just... just take this thing back and leave me the fuck alone."

"This is not the answer you want to give me, Riley."

She hung up on him and turned her phone off.