“Fix my dinner,” Ryland demanded the second the door
closed.
Hanging her head, Samara turned and went to the kitchen.
There wasn’t much left and she was going to have to let him
know, which meant, another fight was about to happen. For some
unknown reason, Ryland Tabor thought the little food he brought
home should be enough to feed the three of them without any
problems.
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She served the food, and waited for the right time to let him
know that they were once more out of groceries. Her heart was
still broken over Makayla being shipped out and tonight, she didn’t
give a damn if she ate or not. She also didn’t care if he beat and
locked her up. The only thing she did know was that now that her
sister was gone she was definitely going to put a stop to the
mystery dates. That shit was over.
She was cleaning up when someone knocked on the door.
Being so late, her gut dropped with the thought that she was being
summoned for another showing. Samara stopped what she was
doing to watch her father walk to the front door. He jerked it open,
apparently not expecting anyone after all.
Two large men in black suits stood together at the door. They
were large enough to take up the whole frame and the sight of
them made Samara’s heart once more drop. She knew who these
men were, without a doubt.
“What the hell do you want?” Ryland demanded.
“Ryland Tabor?” one asked.
“Yeah?”
“Father of Samara and Makayla Tabor?”
“That’s right,” Ryland snarled. “What the hell you want?”
“We are here to escort Samara Tabor to the Compound.”
They both walked into the house, or more like pushed their
way in. The one that spoke to her father handed him a paper,
while the other one came up to her, taking hold of her arm.
“Now wait just one fucking minute!” Ryland huffed, opening
the paper and reading it quickly. “You can’t come into my home
and take my daughter.”
“Under section forty-five, with the accordance of the laws of
Treece, a request for your daughter has been made. If you refuse
to comply, then you will be fined and other punishments may be
inflicted.”
He stood there, open mouthed, as Samara was taken from
the house. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Someone
made a request for her at the Compound. That someone had to
have money and power. That was the only way something like this
could happen. But one question hung in the air, as she walked to
the car parked on the side of the road. Who?
A driver waited for them in the black car. He got out, opened
the back door and Samara got in with one of the men on either
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side of her. She was speechless. Not a word or question came to
mind as they took off, heading for the heart of town.
The four story building came into view. It was breathtaking,
and for her, held a small amount of hope. The only reason she felt
that way was because anything would be better than the life she
was living right now. But still, the thought of what might happen
once she entered the iron gates scared the hell out of her. She
knew, without a doubt, that all girls who were sent here either left
as wives or stayed as whores.
The car turned and headed for the back of the house. It being
nighttime, Samara didn’t get to see much of the grounds or the
house itself, for that matter.
A woman met them at a back door. She had salt and pepper
hair pulled back in a tight bun and wore a black skirt and white
blouse. Her eyes were cold and her body stiff. “I’m the mistress of
the Compound. Please follow me.”
Samara was led inside, down a hallway, into a room where
many different dresses were hanging. She stopped to stare at the
gowns, mostly because she had never seen so many, so close
she could actually touch the fabric.
“This way,” the mistress said.
Samara tore her eyes from the dresses and followed the
accompanied by one huge-ass bathroom.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Samara asked.
“I figured that was obvious. Please strip and take a shower.
Someone will be in to shave you and prepare your hair.”
“Whoa! Shave me? What the hell for?”
She turned, taking a deep breath. “Time is not on your side at
the moment. You’re a request. You have only five minutes to
shower, so I advise you to take it before the servants come in to
dress you.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
The mistress didn’t answer, she just walked out. Samara had
a very funny feeling that she better at least take a hot shower
while she had the chance, because she had no fucking idea what
the hell was going on.
Five minutes exactly, and servants were coming into the
shower room. Samara barely had the towel wrapped around her
body and they were taking her over to a massage table. Her towel
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was taken, and they began shaving her all over her body. It was
strange and very hard to stay still as they worked between her
legs. Once finished, the towel was again wrapped around her and
she was taken back into the room with all the dresses.
The mistress was standing there with a short dress in one
hand, and a shot glass in the other. She handed the glass to
Samara with the simple order to drink it. She did.
“Please remove the towel and slip these on.” She handed her
a lace thong.
The thong made her blood start to boil, mostly because it was
the kind of shit that freak had her wearing when she went for the
“viewings”.
Turning her back on the mistress, Samara slipped the thong
up her legs and in place. Crossing her arms over her bare
breasts, she turned back around as the white gown was slid over
her head. It was short and flowing, reaching her knees. The back
was open all the way down to the small of her back, mere inches
from showing off the thong. The top was also open and free. The
style made it easy for anyone to take it off. All that would be
needed to remove the gown would be to slip the folded shoulder
straps off her shoulders, and then the damn thing would crumple
to the floor.
Her hair was brushed back and left loose; light eye makeup
was applied, and a gloss put on her lips. She was told she
wouldn’t need shoes.
Two different guards waited for them outside the room. The
mistress led the way out, down the hall and set of stairs.
A small party was going on with more men than there seemed
to be girls for. Talk somewhat stopped when she walked in, but
the quiet didn’t last.
Waiters walked aroun
d with trays of snacks and glasses of
wine. Samara was hungry, but she was more worried about what
was going to happen. She moved around, between people and
dodged a few guys who, for some strange reason, tried to kiss
her.
“It’s part of the game.” Samara jumped and turned around
when someone spoke close to her ear.
“What?”
“The kiss.” He took a drink from the glass he was holding,
grabbed another from a waiter who walked by, and handed it to
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her. “It’s part of the game here.”
Samara took the glass, frowned, and stared at the man before
her. He was tall, large build, standing at least six foot, if not more.
His baby blue eyes, she noticed, held a combination of humor and
sex appeal. The dark silk shirt that covered his chest was tight
enough to show off wash-board abs, but opened giving her the
whole view of his chest.
His legs filled out each inch of his matching black pants,
making them look like they were a second skin. His bare feet even
looked strong. But what had Samara’s mind going black was the
thick outline of his cock. It was slightly hard, showing her a
glimpse of what he was hiding.
Tearing her eyes away from his crotch and back up to his
face, she frowned. There was something about him that she knew
she had seen before. It was like they had met before, but she
couldn’t place him.
“Don’t I know you?” she asked.
He finished off his drink, placing the empty glass on another
tray held by a waiter as he sailed on by. “We’ve sort of met once.”
Samara crossed her arms over her chest, leaning to one side,
waiting. “But I didn’t get your name.” She kept her mouth shut,
waiting. He smiled, “I saw you at the store yesterday.”
Slowly it all came back. He was the one that paid for the food.
Her mouth opened and she pointed a finger at him. “You!”
“Dane Knight. And you’re Samara Tabor.”
He took a step forward and she took one back. “Did you set
this up?”
One eyebrow went up on his perfect face. And yes, perfect
came to mind when she looked at him. “Set what up?”
“This!” She made a sweep of her hand around the room.
“The Compound has many different parties and celebrations.”
He kept coming, walking her out to a balcony that was maybe a bit
too private for her taste and comfort. “How could I possibly be
responsible for this?”
Okay, that smile was all too sexy and playful. “I don’t like
being played with.” Shit! He has me alone.
“I was thinking more like a mouse trapped by a cat.” His damn
voice lowered, as did his face.
“Whoa!” She ducked under his arm, only to be stopped by him
taking hold of her wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
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A sharp jerk and she went flying into his arms. Man, he was
strong. His arms went around her tight, but not harshly or brutally
so. In fact, the way he was holding her had her feeling safe, and
Samara never felt safe.
“You afraid of a kiss?” he asked his voice low again, sending
chills down her spine.
Again he lowered down, and this time, Samara was able to
fend him off by pressing her hands on his chest, pushing him
back. “Slow down there, pretty boy. I don’t kiss on first meetings
or second.”
He smiled, and his brows came together, “Pretty boy?”
“I really think you’re moving a bit too—” He cut her off. One
kiss and she was spinning out of control, or falling. Samara didn’t
know which.
His head slanted, as did hers, and she was powerless to hold
back. She opened to him and he went in for the taking. The kiss
deepened, her hands fisted at his chest into his open shirt.
Samara’s breath left in a rush and she rose up on her toes. All
senses were hit with a sweet taste as his tongue slipped deep
inside her mouth, filling her senses with more of that tantalizing
taste.
The sweetness was mind-boggling. Her legs felt like they
were going to suddenly give, and if it weren’t for the strong arms
wrapped tightly around her, then she would have surely fallen to
the floor.
It was her first real kiss and it was very pleasurable and toxic.
Slowly, she un-fisted her hands to graze her palms up the ripples
in his chest. Her nails dug in slightly on his shoulders as, what she
thought was raw desire hitting her. Dampness formed between
her legs and the need to press her body even closer to him hit.
When it ended, Samara had to suppress a moan of regret.
She couldn’t stop herself from stumbling closer to the lips that
were leaving her own. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see
him licking his lips, which had the effect of making her do the
same.
“What was that?” she breathed out.
“Our test,” he answered.
“Test for what?”
He held her close with one arm and, with a free hand, brushed
her cheek with the back of it. The touch gave her the chills again.
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“To see if we’re a match, and we are.” He kissed her again,
stealing her breath once more.
It took a lot of willpower to be able to pull back and away from
him, but she did. “Wait a minute. What?”
Dane took hold of her hand, turned and walked back into the
room, dragging her with him. He went over to the door where
guards waited. “Please escort her to the room.”
“What? Wait a minute!” she raised her voice at him. “What’s
going on here?”
Dane looked her right in the eye. “We’re a match, Samara
Tabor. That means you’re now going to become my wife.”
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Chapter Four
Samara was pissed and confused. She thought she felt more
confusion than anger, but soon came to the realization that it was
equal. She was both!
She paced back and forth in the unlocked room, hugging
herself and glancing at the door, waiting for it to open. She
thought about what she knew about the Compound, and so far,
that was not much. Since she was of the lower class, the
Compound didn’t concern her. Only the rich girls went up there,
with hopes of attaining a husband. Sure, once in a while, a father
might sign over his guardianship to the Compound, but that was
something she didn’t think happened anymore. Or did it?
The bedroom was very nice. It was one of the nicest rooms
she had ever seen. The bed was king size, low to the ground with
plush pillows and cream silk sheets, and arranged with a
comforter folded to the middle of the bed. Two white robes draped
at the end of the bed, and two natural stained oak end-tables were
positioned on either side.
There was also a low table in the middle of the room with
over-stuffed pillows placed around for seating. Arranged next to
the table, a smaller table was adorned with strawberries and wine
chilling in a bucket of ice.
The bathroom was just as impressive as the bedroom. A large
shower with at least six heads built into the wall was immediately
located on her right. It had no walls or shower curtain of any kind.
Off to the left, was a large whirlpool bath tub for two. Double sinks
stood in the middle and in the back corner, the toilet with a private
door to close.
A click and Samara was back out in the bedroom, facing the
door that was opening. Dane walked in, glancing around the room
with an approving expression on his face.
“Very nice,” he stated.
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“What’s going on here?” she asked, crossing her arms over
her chest. It was an action initiated mostly to help give her a bit of
protection. The damn dress she was in showed off way too much
of her body.
“Didn’t I already answer that?” He closed the door behind him
and turned a dial, producing a clicking sound, which indicated they
were locked in.
But she had to test it. Samara rushed past him to the door,
trying the knob. “Why are we locked in here?”
“You don’t know?” He frowned at her for a second before
going over to the bucket where the wine was chilling. “Ah, I heard
about this.” he picked up one of the strawberries that had a glaze
of chocolate on it. “Now this, I can’t wait to try.”
“Hello!” She waved her arms up in the air to get his attention.
“Is there something wrong with you? What the hell is going on
here?”
He put the strawberry down, picked up the bottle from the ice
bucket, popped the cork and poured two glasses. Once filled, he
placed the bottle back in the ice, picked up the glasses and
walked over to her, handing her one. Samara took it.
“Okay, what do you know about the Compound?” he asked,
taking a drink.
Samara took a deep breath and raised her head. “I know that
it’s a playground for you rich people. Guys, like you, come in for
your pleasure and leave.”
Dane licked his lips and frowned at her for a second. “Well
that’s part of it, I guess, but not everything.” He turned and walked