Chapter 5

Waiting in silence Jemma felt the fear begin to return. She'd been pampered and taken care of and treated, not like a guest as such, in fact, thinking about it, it felt more like a prisoner preparing for his last supper than anything else. Why had that thought never crossed her mind?

Probably because her mind was more focused on sex than on worrying about her situation she thought ruefully. It had seemed that every time she started to focus on Kyle and going home, something had happened to distract her, and she'd just been enjoying not having to worry about anything. Fool!

And now here she was tied, albeit loosely, but still effectively the prisoner of this rather large, rather intimidating man, who was being unnerving silent at the moment. She thought back to that moment when he'd forced her up against the cupboard and held his hand tightly over her mouth.

He was strong, much stronger than she, and now that the haze of arousal was wearing off she was more than a little terrified again. Surely he wouldn't rape her, he'd told her he wanted her to come to him willingly, but then by coming here in the first place had she not shown willing?

Maybe that would be enough for him, she thought panicking, and with the doors seemingly impenetrable and the staff unlikely to come to her aide how could she stop him if he really wanted to have her. She was just a girl and a pretty unfit one at that, whereas he clearly spent a lot of time working on his body. She didn't stand a chance!

Her breathing was coming quickly now, almost hyperventilating, and when he touched her cheek she let out a little shriek and jerked away, forgetting her hands were tied behind her back. With another cry she felt herself falling, unable to catch herself as she toppled sideways and landed hard on her shoulder, her head hitting the floor with a thud.

Feeling the touch of his hand on her arm she frantically tried to back away, pushing herself back along the floor with her feet, little whimpers of fear escaping her mouth as she did so.

She could hear his footsteps padding along beside her as she wriggled, pulling the ties around her wrists tight as she struggled to get free.

Changing direction, she yanked at the knots but what had once seemed like a harmless bit of fun had now turned into a painfully restrictive bond and everything she did seemed to make it pull that little bit tighter. Backing up against a wall she realised with a shocked gasp that the wriggling that had made the bonds on her wrists tighter had had the opposite effect on the bow of the kimono, somewhere along the way it had come undone and the robe gaped open. Unable to see, she could feel the brush of air over her heated skin and the slide of the silky material as it parted over her thighs.