“Please wait. Catherine, can’t you please stay and talk to me, even for a little while? After all, we have five hours before Mr. Rawlings will arrive.”

“I must go, but may I say you look beautiful. I like your face . . . well, ah . . . clear.” Catherine smiled a real and tender smile and exited the suite.

Somehow Claire knew it was a mind game. He was testing her to see how she would dress, look, and act. He was also testing her to determine if his mere presence caused uneasiness. She decided this examination was an opportunity to respond to her circumstances instead of reacting. He would take her body. That reality was made painfully clear. However, she would not let him have her mind. He wanted her to spend the next five hours alone dreading his arrival, filled with fear and trembling. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

She had five hours to prove she was in control of her life—if not to him, then at least to herself. She walked into her closet and, like a general selecting his soldiers, perused the racks and shelves selecting an outfit that would bolster her self-confidence. She found it—a black dress with a long flowing skirt. The idea of being near him in a dress made her queasy, but she liked the boldness.

With each flash of the mascara or zip of the flowing black satin dress, she reviewed her decision. Escape from this room is not possible. The only way to get out of here is to concede to whatever he demands and find another way out. Looking at herself in the mirror, Claire straightened her neck, righted her shoulders, and confirmed her mission. Physically fighting had been counterproductive, it only seemed to intensify Anthony’s resolve. She needed to yield, temporarily, to his demands in order to access a means of exodus. Completing her hairstyle, she dissected her plan. It seemed like surrender, but her gut told her that resigning to him with a straight face and experiencing the effects of her verbalization took more control than the pleas, accusations, and fighting of two weeks earlier.

It was eight forty-five when Claire buckled the Jimmy Choo sandals. She felt confident she looked the part. She just needed to perform it too. At nine thirty, her nerves were wreaking havoc with her stomach. Damn him! That was his plan. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She reached for her current novel by the bed and went to the overstuffed chair and sat down. She started to read, but the words made no sense. Her chest thumped as her heart beat too rapidly, and her mouth tasted like cotton. Getting up, she retrieved a bottle of water. Her sweaty palms made opening the cap difficult. The water helped her dry mouth until it hit her stomach. Fearing she would need to run for the bathroom, she remembered to breathe deep cleansing breaths. Her nerves began to calm. The flames of the fire warmed her as she attempted to concentrate on the words of her book.

At nine fifty-eight, preceded by the beep, her suite door opened. Anthony walked in like he was there earlier that day, not two weeks ago. Dressed in a dark gray double-breasted silk suit, he appeared heavier than she remembered; maybe not heavy, massive, broad-chested. She wasn’t sure of his height, but would guess about six four, an entire twelve inches taller than her. His age showed in fine lines around his dark eyes, estimating, Claire figured, late thirties.

“Good evening, Claire.”

The heat from the fireplace helped to ward off trembling. Claire stood and nodded. “Good evening, Anthony.” Taking command, “Shall we sit?”

Anthony sat on the sofa, leaned back, and unbuttoned his jacket. Claire sat on the edge of the chair and looked directly into his eyes. She wouldn’t show fear, although those dark eyes were the scariest things she’d ever seen.

“Do you think you are ready to continue with our agreement? Or do you need some more time alone to consider the situation?”

“After consulting my attorney, I feel I have no choice but to continue with our agreement.”

Anthony’s eyes darkened at the mention of a consultation. “Claire, I know you are joking. But do you really think that is a good idea? Considering your circumstances?”

Keeping her smile intact, she said, “I have had a lot of time to think, joviality has sustained me.”

“I must say your demeanor impresses me. I will need to deliberate on this new personality.”

The two sat in silence while the fireplace blower hummed in the background. Claire used every ounce of control to appear calm while Anthony pondered. He remained seated against the back of the sofa, yet his jaw seemed to clench as his eyes devoured her, scanning and taking her in. She wished she could read his eyes. Then suddenly they caught hers. “Tell me what you have learned during your reflection time.”

“I have learned I have many clothes, very nice clothes, may I add. I have a balcony that I cannot access because the door is locked. I have a refrigerator and small microwave. But honestly, the microwave seems unnecessary as I also have food brought to me three times a day.”

“That is all very nice,” Anthony said with a hint of sarcasm. “But what have you discovered about your situation? Do you even know where you are?” His expression was confident as if only he held the answers to her questions.

Claire contemplated her response. Should she be honest and tell him she learned Iowa City from the Weather Channel? What if that resulted in loss of TV stations, she might not know what day it is. Then again, if she lied and said she didn’t know and he caught her in a lie, what would happen? Maintaining an air of confidence, she said, “I am in Iowa, or at least somewhere near Iowa City.”

Gripping the arm of the sofa with his right hand, Claire saw his muscles tense. “And you learned this from whom?” Each word became more exaggerated as he spoke.

“I learned it from the Weather Channel, Local on the Eights. The local weather for this area comes from Iowa City, Iowa.” Claire continued to sound as lighthearted as possible.

Anthony’s body relaxed, and he nodded his head in approval. “Very well, that will spare me telling you that information.” Claire wanted to ask how she got there. “For the sake of clarity, since that seemed to be a problem in the past, you are aware that your indebtedness to me can only be determined paid by me?”

Claire swallowed. This is what she anticipated, smiling she nodded her head yes.

His voice strong and authoritative. “I prefer verbal confirmation.”

“I am aware that you are the only one who can decide when my debt is paid in full.” Even Claire was surprised by the calmness of her voice. She said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t notice her hands balled into fists with her nails biting into her own palms. If she concentrated, she could remember how to relax her hands. But at this moment, her concentration was needed elsewhere.

“You are also aware that your duties require you to be available to me whenever, wherever, and however I demand?” His eyes never faltered from her, yet his body language looked relaxed, arrogant. He was a man willing to push Claire to the brink. It was like watching a poker game, pushing the odds. Would there be a payoff? Or would someone blink?

“I am aware.”

“You are aware that you must at all times obey my rules?” Anthony’s eyes penetrated.

“I am aware that I must do as I am told.” The words hurt her throat but sounded easily spoken. She was not going to let him fluster her. And damn, she didn’t need that skin on her palms anyway. Her smile remained steady and undaunted.

Anthony remained silent for an extended period of time, watching Claire. Finally, he spoke. “Very well.” He stood. Claire expected some kind of directive. Instead, he walked toward the door.

“Wait.” She proclaimed. He turned to look at her. His expression showed astonishment at her command. She immediately realized her words overstepped her bounds, but she couldn’t go on locked alone in the suite. Her tone softened. “I am sorry, but may I leave this suite?”