Escape From Paradise by Gwendolyn Field

Author:Gwendolyn Field [Field, Gwendolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary
Publisher: Gwendolyn Field
Published: 2013-06-24T12:00:00+00:00

How long had it been since someone kissed me? Truly kissed me, like this? Like they couldn’t get enough of me. Like I was a nectar to their dying thirst.

Never.

My boyfriend’s kisses had always been sweet. After him, there were drunken kisses at parties, and of course the lust-filled kisses from Fernando that I tried never to remember.

When Marco’s patrons kissed me with sloppy, impassioned ownership, it was for their own pleasure, never mine.

Every now and then I’d get a patron who I knew wanted me to come, but even then, it always seemed to be for their own egotistical purposes. An outward show of their control over my body. Not because they cared.

This felt different. Strangely real. It was confusing and worrisome, but I couldn’t stop the thoughts that came to me.

My mind went back to last night. The way he’d looked into my eyes like I was a woman, not an object. The way I’d sensed something like reluctance from him. I couldn’t place it. All I knew was it felt different. Deep down, I knew he was probably the same as anyone else who came here, but I wanted to enjoy this moment. For however many days he spent at the villa, I wanted to pretend he was just a sexy, normal man, and that I was a normal girl choosing to be with him.

I must have looked starry-eyed when we returned to the slave quarters last night because Josef eyed me with complete seriousness and disapproval.

“Qué?” I’d snapped. What? Though I knew what. Having any emotions was dangerous around here.

He only shook his head slowly and whispered in Spanish, “Be careful, Angel. Guard your heart.”

I loved him for caring, but I wasn’t going to fall in love with a patron—I wasn’t that stupid. However, I would take my kicks where I could get them, and this guy was seriously hot. Nobody who came here was ever hot, except that Latin pop star who preferred Josef.

When I’d first looked up at Mr. Douglas after dinner, a feeling I hadn’t had since Cancun filled me. My first thought was, “Oh, my God. I can’t wait to tell my friends about this guy!” By “friends” I meant my sorority sisters, not my fellow slaves.

It was such a strange, alien thought to have here at the villa, and my heart sunk the moment it crossed my mind. I would never be telling my friends about him, and as that realization struck me I was filled with an overflow of loss and sadness that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Yes, I had to be careful. Guard my heart. And I would.

Under that sexy scruffiness, Mr. Douglas was a heartless criminal just like the rest of them. I had no business letting “old Angela” thoughts into Angel’s life. Still…the way he’d looked at me…and then when I’d heard him speak. Hearing my native language in that roguish accent made something bloom to life inside me that had been long dead. I hadn’t heard English in a year.

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