I furrow my brow as he approaches.

  “No class today.” He tears a sheet of paper out of his notebook and hands it to me. “Miss Leonard is sick, but she left an assignment on the board.”

  I take the paper and see the bible chapters and essay assignment he’s scribbled down for me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the black suit and turn.

  Ash is coming toward us, talking on his phone. As he approaches, he clicks off his call and places his phone inside his jacket pocket.

  “I’ll be outside.” He gives me a soft smile. “When class is over, I’ll meet you right out here.” He points toward the double doors.

  Cameron reaches over and puts a hand on my shoulder, giving me a soft shove toward Ash, then adds, “No class today. She can come with you now.” I glare at Cameron, who smiles at us both before walking away whistling.

  “My lucky day.” Ash’s smile grows. “Let’s go. The hotel has amazing food.” Ash holds the door open, his eyes on me, and two words keep echoing in my mind...

  Hotel.

  Sin.

  S E V E N

  Ash

  SELMA’S STEPS HALT when my driver jumps out of the car and opens the back door as we approach.

  Taking her hand, I meet her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I—” She glances across the parking lot. “I have my truck...”

  “I’ll bring you back, or I can have someone drive it to the hotel.”

  For some crazy reason, I want her and everything she owns with me from this moment on. Last night, laying in my bed, between jacking off to thoughts of her, and the rage that I didn’t know where she was, I even considered buying a house near here. It’s a world away from New York, but because she’s here, it’s beginning to feel like home.

  “Yes, I’d like to have it with me.” There’s hesitation in her voice, and I imagine having her truck there will give her some comfort.

  After all, to her, I’m some guy who showed up yesterday trying to give her money. She doesn’t seem to have the same knowledge of who Ash Thompson is as most people. I only hope she feels some of what I’m feeling, otherwise convincing her that she belongs with me is going to be more difficult.

  But I’m up for the challenge. I’m up for any challenge that puts us together.

  Because that’s what’s going to happen. We will be together.

  “Your wish is my command.” I turn to the black Lincoln idling along the edge of the parking lot and twitch my head.

  Out of the passenger door comes Victor, and I look to see Selma’s eyes widen, and she takes a step closer to me. When I squeeze her hand, that same jolt of energy shoots up my arm and lodges in my chest, making my heart beat faster.

  “Yes, sir?” Victor keeps his eyes on me.

  Yesterday, after Selma disappeared on us, I gave strict instructions to my bodyguards. Anyone that looks at her from now on is suspect, and they are to report it to me immediately, and I will decide if I hurt them or not.

  Or order them hurt.

  Didn’t take more than that for my guys to understand this applied to them as well.

  “I want you to drive her truck to the hotel.” I turn to Selma. “Keys, baby?”

  The term of affection slips out as naturally as my breath, and a slight smile curves her lips as she digs in her backpack and turns over a single Ford key on a piece of twine with a dangling wooden cross to my man’s outstretched palm.

  “Thank you.” Her sweet voice drifts to my ears as Victor nods and Selma points across the lot. “The orange Ford pickup. You can’t miss it, over that way. You have to pump the gas once to get it to start and let it run a minute before you drive it otherwise it will stall.”

  Victor nods then walks away. I squeeze her fingers in mine, and my body screams for her. I want to feel her naked against me. Thoughts of tearing her clothes from her body and sinking inside her softness rage in my mind like a madman. As violent as my thoughts can be, I know I would be gentle with her. Treat her like the treasure she is and dine on the soft petals between her legs. Listening to her call my name, her body shaking as I give her pleasure begging for more...

  “Mr. Thompson?” Her voice breaks me from my dirty daydream.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Get in.” I extend my hand and drop her fingers from mine, already missing her touch as I watch her climb into the back seat of the limo, thanking Theodore, my driver, as she does.

  She’s everything. Beautiful, sure, but sweet too. Polite and kind. Smart and savvy in her own innocent way. She’s different today. Her clothing, her manner. She’s a different girl in her videos than who is in front of me now, but they blend perfectly into one incredible package.

  Her lavender skirt looks homemade. The black loafers the same as she wore yesterday are worn, as though she’s walked miles in them for too long. A light-yellow fabric blouse with tiny lavender roses, buttoned up to the top button by a rounded lace collar looks childlike yet sexy.

  Once she’s seated in the back of the limo, I climb in beside her and scoop up her hand again.

  “Do you like that?” I hear Theodore close the door behind me, and gaze into her blue eyes as she holds her knees tightly together. And my hope that no one has ever touched her before screams through my brain.

  I watch her swallow and nod. “I do.”

  Reaching out with my other hand, I touch her cheek. Her flesh is warm and as soft as rose petals, and I think of what her other flesh must feel like. How her body would feel, naked, laying on top of mine like a blanket made just for me. Would she feel safe? Would she know how desperately I want to take care of her? How much I want to give her everything?

  “Me too. The hotel is only ten minutes away. Do you know the Jamestown? It’s quite nice. Not a lot of selection in this area, but it certainly does the job.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “The Jamestown? It does the job?” She chuckles. “Yes, I suppose it does.” She adds in a mock British, stiff upper lip sort of tone.

  In that moment, I realize I will never let her go. The lengths I will go to, to possess her know no bounds. My need to make her happy and bind her to me in every way are now my sole purpose in life. I want her heart to be unable to imagine a life without me. Her body unable to have pleasure without me.

  I’m an ethical man, but what I would do to anyone that tries to keep her from me...I pity them. She is the one, I feel it, and her blue eyes looking up at me only drive the point home. She needs me.

  And I need her.

  “So,” she starts. “How exactly did you find me? I mean, I use a fake name. I don’t give away any information about where I am...”

  “I was able to track down the source of the video and blog. It was that important to me to make things right. I hired people...” I let my voice trail off, then decide to be truthful. “Hackers. They were able to narrow down where your blog was sourced.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?”

  I nod. “Yes, but my moral code said there was more good to be gained than harm to be inflicted by the information I needed to get to you. Not all laws are just, Selma.”

  “That’s true. Papa and the Bible say the same thing.”

  The Bible.

  Papa.

  There’s a picture of her life forming in my head.

  “Selma,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “Tell me about where you live. What does your father do?”

  She nods, and I know I’m a selfish bastard for already thinking of ways to take her away from her home and bring her to mine. The nagging information about a fiancé seems far less important for some reason. I do not feel any sort of other attachment coming from her.

  “We live about fifty miles north, in the Dresden Community. Papa’s the elder Preacher of our church.”

  The Dresden Community, from the little I know, is a strict religious near cult. They have elements of Amish and Baptist, but with their own tight-knit inner circles that believe in keeping the outside world at arm’s length and their communities closed to outsiders.

  “And your mother?”

  There’s sadness in her eyes, and I hate it. “Mama left a long time ago. She was an outsider. Papa fell in love with her, they got married, lived in Dresden, but in the end, she needed the outside more than us.”

  Her forced smile and downcast eyes gut me.

  “I’m so sorry.” I reach over and smooth her hair, cupping the back of her head in my hand for a moment. Her pain shows in the way her body tightens, and she bites into her bottom lip.

  “It’s okay. I’m happy. I have a good life even if I want things outside that I probably shouldn’t. Like my cooking, my blog, the videos. That would not sit well with Papa or the community. It’s just folly. Soon I’ll have to give it up.”

  Over my dead body.

  I take a deep breath to calm myself. If I could, I would take her away today. Give her everything she wants. The joy I see in her eyes when she’s Anastasia on the videos is pure and real. I want to see that joy on her face every day from this day forward.

  I’ve spent my life growing my empire, but I now realize that means nothing without her. I’ve always tried to stay on the right side of things, I could be richer and more successful if I’d been otherwise, but there’s a moral core in me that I’ve managed to maintain, and it lets me sleep at night.

  I’ve never needed religion to teach me right from wrong. And looking at her now, I know I would break every law in the land to protect her. Like I said before, not all laws are just.

  Her videos don’t come close to capturing her true beauty. She’s stunning in her natural state. She wears almost no make-up today as Selma, but she’s more ravishing than anything the lens captured.

  As we pull up to the hotel, I’ve gathered enough information from her to understand the two sides of her personality. They are distinctive and yet both authentic.

  Selma has been a dutiful daughter, abiding by the code of conduct in her community. Anastasia has expressed the inner flower that longs to blossom out of Selma. Her natural charisma, her talent as a chef, her sparkling beauty...they are all parts Selma would never be able to express at home, and that makes my heart ache for her.

  There’s a knot in my gut when I ask her another question as the limo pulls into the parking lot at the hotel.

  “Why would you have to give it up?”

  Her cheeks redden, but her eyes turn dark. She licks her bottom lip, and I trace my fingers down her arm, entwining them with her other hand and squeezing gently, urging her to answer.

  “I’m supposed to get married. Soon. I’ll be a community wife. It’s all arranged. I’ve never even met him. Nothing like my blog would be allowed.”

  Knives pierce my heart at the word married.

  “I see.” Is all I can manage, but as the limo slides to a stop in an empty space I ask one final question. “What feels right to you? Getting married and doing as expected or living the life you see for yourself?”

  She hesitates. “It’s not that simple. Papa...” She shakes her head and looks to the darkened window. “I can’t shame my father. It would kill him.”

  E I G H T

  Selma

  I WATCH AS ASH FOLDS his hands as if in prayer, sitting at the mahogany dining table where we’ve just finished the most lavish and delicious meal of my life. He’s watching me with such an intensity I feel it down into my bones.

  The suite is three times as large as the house where Papa and I live, and I’ve not even seen what I assume is the bedroom behind one of the doors on the outer walls.

  I’m slightly lightheaded from the glass of wine I drank with lunch but in all honesty...it feels wonderful. The weight of my life feels slightly lifted, and I’m doing what I can to live in the moment as Anastasia would do.

  We’ve talked like we were old friends for nearly two hours. He’s so smart, but there’s also this paternal, almost possessive undertone to him that has me tingling and giddy in a way I’ve never experienced before.

  Not that I’ve experienced much of anything before that even comes close to whatever this is.

  “I want to give you your own show.” He finally breaks the silence, and a wave of excitement washes over me at the idea. “I can make that happen, Selma. And a lot more.”

  He pushes back from the table and makes his way to where I’m seated near the fireplace. He seems taller here in the suite, dressed in his neat black suit, and I look to see his jaw muscles harden as he steps just in front of me where I’m touching the exquisite silk on the chair where I’m sitting.

  “It would be wonderful.” My mind spins with the possibilities, then I sigh. “But it’s just a silly dream. It can’t be my life.”

  “Why not? You just said it, it’s your life.”

  “You don’t understand. It would ruin Papa. When my mother left...” My voice threatens to crack as I try to keep it steady. “It humiliated him. He was a junior leader in the church back then, being groomed to be the next preacher. When he returned, married to an outsider, he nearly lost his appointment. He fought hard to convince the elders he was worthy, that my mother would become a valuable member of the community. He became Preacher, not long after my mother had me. For years she tried to be what was expected, but in the end, I guess she just couldn’t. She left, and the community nearly turned against him. He had to fight once again to save his position, which means the most to him of anything in this world. It’s his calling, and something his own parents always wanted for him. If I left? If I didn’t do as expected?” I shake my head. “It would be just another indignity. It’s so much bigger than just me wanting some little food blog. It’s his life too.”

  I’m not sure why I’m telling a near stranger all this, but it feels good to talk to him. As if for the first time in my life someone is really listening to me. Someone wants to hear me.

  “You are not responsible for what happened to him, Selma. And your suffering doesn’t fix anything either. It just means two of you will suffer, and he has a responsibility to not put his past onto you.”

  Before I answer, there’s a knock at the door, and I see Ash’s eyes light up.

  “I have a surprise for you.” He runs his hand down from my shoulder to my wrist and grabs on, pulling me toward the door of the suite. “Stand right here.” He stops us about ten feet before the door and sets his hands on my shoulders. “Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when to open them.”

  After just a moment of hesitation, I do as he asks, shutting my eyes tight. It might seem strange, but I’ve never done this before. I close my eyes to sleep, not to keep from seeing something. Nobody has ever given me a surprise before. Anticipation tingles my skin as I grab my elbows with each hand, pressing my forearms into my belly, and I hear Ash’s hushed instructions.

  “Here. Over there. Set it down...Thank you.”

  Then there’s the sound of the door clicking closed, the slip of the lock being engaged, and Ash’s voice whispers into my ear.

  “Okay. Open your eyes.”

  When I open, Ash is standing there, but surrounding him—on the floor, tables, the kitchen counter, everywhere my eyes land—there are bags and boxes. Some tied with ribbons, some still in store bags.

  “What is all this?”

  “I know I can’t buy you, Selma. But I can buy you nice things. Things I think you deserve. Things I think you will enjoy. Things that will make you smile. I want to make you smile.”

  I see the brand names: Apple, Tiffany, Channel...and my hands fly up to cover my mouth.

  Ash reaches over and pulls them away, grinning as he sees the smile on my lips and the happy tears in my eyes. “I said I want to make you smile. Then you’re going to hide it from me?”

  “Sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything, go start unpacking. There’s clothes, electronics, everything beautiful and useful I thought you could use. Within reason, by which I mean I could have it purchased and delivered today.”

  “Wow.” I start to wind my way through the boxes and bags on the floor to the ones on the kitchen counter. I look at the Apple Mac box, the iPhone, tablet...

  I unpack bags of clothes more beautiful than I’ve seen in any magazine. There’s sequins and silk. There’s denim and leather. Everything I could never imagine having is right here and real, and the guilt that tries to override my pleasure loses as I decide that it feels good, and that’s enough for now.

  “I feel so spoiled!” I half choke as tears burn my eyes. “I don’t deserve all this.”

  “You deserve to be spoiled. I want to spoil you, Selma.”

  Ash is next to me, then behind me. My skin tingles as he pulls my hair around and over one shoulder, the cooler air of the room on the warm flesh of my neck.

  “Why?” I gasp. “Why me?”

  All my doubts surface. Why is he doing this? Is this some joke?

  A man like Ash Thompson, doing all this for me? I know this is petty change for him, so am I just some game? A conquest he searched out on the internet? I’m so confused, but a part of me wants so badly to believe he could be feeling even an ounce of what I am right now.

  “I know this is strange, but when I first saw your videos, something inside me came to life.” His lips glance over my flesh, then he comes around to walk in front of me. Reaching into a bag, he pulls out a red silk dress fit for a gala to which I will never be invited. Or I never thought I would be invited... “Then, when I saw you yesterday, when I touched your hand, I changed. If there is a heaven, that’s where you came from. It’s like you were dropped into my world to set me straight. To give me the one thing money can’t buy.”

  “Then what is all this? Why have you spent so much money on someone you barely even know?” I blurt out, waving my hands around the room as he pulls out a box from the blue Tiffany bag, slips open the ribbon and lifts the lid on the hinged robin’s-egg blue box, showing me what looks like a platinum and diamond heart pendant on a delicate chain.