Tara (2 page)

Chapter Two

Milan, Italy

Tara took a deep breath and brushed off her skirt, tugging her blouse so it hung carefully over her hips before adjusting the neckline again. She moved her hand through her hair, pushing it back and lifting the loose dark blonde curls up and away from her scalp. The diamond bracelet Gianni had given her for Christmas slid up her arm, and then back down. Her stomach twisted with how nervous she was, but she ignored it. This was a good house, it was a good place, and she just needed to deal with the dress-up game.

Looking down at her clothes she reminded herself that Gianni liked her in blue, and the jewel-like blue of the top was one he had said before brought out her eyes. She fussed at it again even though she didn’t need to look in a mirror to know her makeup was perfect, didn’t need to mess with her clothes to know they looked perfect too. That’s what she was supposed to be, at all times – perfection.

Perfection kept her safe. Anything less meant suffering.

“Tara, he’s on his way.” The low voice of one of his security detail sounded behind her, echoing off all of that marble. Keeping them happy ensured her safety as well. She turned and flashed a smile at Armand, making sure to make eye contact. The flush in his cheeks showed the simple movements had their desired effect, just like the clothes, and the incredibly painful four-inch heels.

“I know. I’m just impatient to see him again.” Tara made her voice soft and sweet and she turned to look back at the door as if she couldn’t wait for her master to arrive again. In truth, this was one of the best situations she had ever landed in. A relatively gentle master who traveled for work more often than not, who was happy to let her have free rein of his house. Someone she had spent six years engineering trust with. Now he showered her with gifts and in the last year or so had even taken her out to events. He paraded her around like the acquisition she was, and she smiled when she was supposed to, laughed and talked with his friends, kissed him with all the look of a young girl in love.

Only she wasn’t young, and she wasn’t in love – but she
was
safe. No one hurt her here.

The creaking and banging of the gate at the street as it opened made her heart race, a trickle of fear slipping into her veins as the bands on her wrists lit up to forewarn his arrival. The fear ran through her a moment before she took a deep breath and settled herself behind a placid calm. He had been gone for three weeks. This was a good thing. She
was
happy he was home again. It was another chance to validate his trust in her. Another chance to show him she was everything he wanted so she could continue to enjoy the freedoms he allowed her.

Their voices came through the door as they approached it, then it swung open and she caught the end of what Gianni was saying, “- ready in three days, we don’t have a lot of time.” He stopped suddenly when his eyes shifted and he saw her.

Lights, camera, action
.

“Gianni!” Tara ran forward quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling brightly as she leaned into him. “You’re back!” She cried cheerfully, tucking her face against his neck and hugging him to her, playing up the affection, cuddling against his chest like a girl would if she were in love.

His hands clenched her upper arms and forced her back, and for once the look of confusion on her face was honest – he had never pushed her away. Ever. “Don’t, Tara.”

“Gianni, what’s wrong? What happened in Venice?” She didn’t have to fake the concern in her voice. Gianni’s eyes were distant and removed when he stared into her face. All of the lust and excitement that usually filled them when he saw her was gone. She reached her hand up to his face, pouting a little. “I’ve missed you.”

His fingers dug into her arms, anger flashing across his face, and then he shoved her to the ground, those four-inch heels making it impossible to keep her balance as she landed hard on the marble floor. She winced as she caught her weight with her wrist. This was all wrong. He never acted like this, he never pushed her away.

Gianni stared down at her with a look of shame and disgust, and Tara could feel the panic rising inside her as it all settled into place. She had seen this before. She knew that look.

He was done with her.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Tara.” Gianni muttered, his voice clearly irritated already. He avoided looking at her as his security detail brought in bags and shut the door tight. None of the men who had gone with him would look at her either.

Because they already know.

“What did I do?” Tara filled her voice with emotion, letting it crack as she spoke, tears tipping out of her eyes as she looked up at him from the floor.

Maybe if he saw her cry.

He’d caved before when he saw her cry.

Put on the full act, Tara.

“Gianni?” She sniffled.

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything different. You’re exactly what you are.” His face twisted as he made himself look at her, and Tara forced herself not to wince as he kept talking. “I just don’t want this. I don’t – I don’t want you anymore. I want someone real.”

Tara felt the comment as if he’d gutted her – because it just confirmed her as property, and it was a line she’d heard throughout her long life. Letting him see how much it hurt wouldn’t help the situation though, she had to choose a new tactic so she could stay in this house. She pushed herself up off the floor, standing gracefully as she focused on looking concerned, maintaining the pout he had once told her made him want to kiss her.

This had worked on him before, maybe it would work again.

“I understand, Gianni. You’ve found someone else - someone real?”

“Yes.” His eyes didn’t even flick towards her, and their security-detail audience was awkwardly shuffling.

“Well…”
Time to gamble
. Tara took a small step towards him again, her fingertips playing with a button on his coat. “She doesn’t have to know about us. We can be very discreet.” For a moment Tara imagined how much better it would be if she spent even less time with him. If she was safe and alone. He’d be distracted by this woman he thought he loved, and she could stay somewhere else. She could –

“STOP!” Gianni grabbed her wrist and gripped it hard enough to hurt, the bands activating with his command to send sparks of pain crackling up her arms.

“I don’t want to leave you!” Tara pleaded, and realized with too much regret that it was the truth. Gianni had been good to her in his own way. A new master could mean anything, a new master could mean fear and blood and pain. “Please, Gianni!”

He slapped her. Hard enough that she tasted the coppery tang of blood in her mouth and found herself crouched near the floor, the bands still vibrating against her skin with his anger. It had been almost a year since he’d hit her last, and the shock of it made her silent.

Guess the good years are over
.

“Just stop it, Tara. It’s already done. I found someone else for you. They’re coming for you in the morning.” Gianni was speaking above her, but she didn’t trust her ability to control her expression, to keep the hate out of her face, so she stared at the floor.

He’d sold her.

It was already done.

She kind of wanted to throw up.

“Sebastien, take her downstairs to her cell. I don’t want to see her anymore tonight.”

An ache shot through her chest, and it made it hard to breathe even when Sebastien, one of his favorites, gently helped her stand. Gianni wasn’t even going to let her sleep in her room, because it adjoined his. Whether that was because he didn’t trust himself, or he was just ashamed of her, or himself, it didn’t matter.

She was sold. Cast out. Old news. No longer Gianni’s
beautiful love
.

Gianni stomped off and several of his men followed him, not even lifting their eyes to her. They had known. They had all known what he planned to do on his return. Sebastien’s hand drifted to the back of her neck where his thumb massaged a circle as he turned them and they walked away from the front door. The touch started to numb her out, making her pull her mind tighter inside her skin, away from the edges so she was detached. Her heels clicked like a metronome over the marble floors before she got to the stairs to head down to the basement.

Sebastien’s voice broke into her internal panic, cutting off the flashbacks of old masters, the fear of the infinite possibilities that awaited her. “You know, he spent all day yesterday finding someone good for you. He’s not just throwing you out.” Sebastien’s hand slid down to the small of her back as they hit the bottom of the stairs and she faced the cell she had spent the first year and a half of her time with Gianni in.

How had things gone downhill so fast?

Her music. She needed her music if she was going to keep it together – if she was going to avoid the nightmares.

Tara turned towards him, letting Sebastien’s hand slide from her lower back to rest on her waist as she gave him a slow smile. With a deep breath she made sure her voice came out sweet and steady, “I’m sure he’s just doing what’s best for me. I’m very grateful for the effort.”

“Exactly.” Sebastien mumbled as he moved his other hand to her cheek, tucking one of her curls behind her ear. She didn’t turn away from him, even though she wanted to hit him for not preventing this, wanted to grab the knife he had hidden somewhere on him and drive it through his deceiving throat. He had taken so much in his time
guarding
her, and he couldn’t talk Gianni out of this? Couldn’t make it so she could stay? Bastard.

As much as she wanted to hurt him, she needed her music more.

Smile, Tara
.

“You know, Sebastien, if I’m going to be down here… I could really use my iPod. Think you could bring it for me?” She lifted her gaze first to his lips, then to his eyes, and she knew the way he stared at her that he had noticed.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He grinned just before someone called his name from the top of the stairs. Turning his head to check the staircase, he looked back at her hungrily. Steeling herself not to back away she prepared for him to kiss her, but the quick touch of his lips against hers stopped as soon as it started. He swung the door of the sixteen by sixteen cell open and she stepped in with no argument.

Behaving has its benefits, Tara
.

“So, Sebastien, I’ll see you later?” She wrapped her fingers around the bars and leaned her forehead against them, looking at him with a small, promising smile. Another call of his name from the stairs, and when his head flipped back to her she pouted. His willpower collapsed in front of her and he nodded as he locked the cell door, mouthing the word ‘
later’
as he rushed up the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight she turned around and dropped her head against the bars.

“Dammit,” she groaned and knocked her head back against the bars again.

Everything had been so perfect. Gianni trusted her not to betray him, he hadn’t hurt her in a year, he was even taking her out and about, letting her go escorted on shopping trips. Emilio, his head of security, had even taken her dancing, and to the opera, and the symphony. Gianni’s bed had been such a small price to pay for the freedom he had given her. Who knew what this new master would be like? Would he be like Gianni? Just lonely, too busy for a real relationship? Someone who wanted something pretty to come home to and show off when it was needed?

Or would he be one of the bad ones?

Old memories threatened to surface and she clamped them down.

Tara pushed away from the bars and crossed the rugs that overlaid the concrete floor to sit on the twin bed. A puff of dust came up around her and she watched the particles float in the fluorescent light. The last time she’d been in here was two years ago when Gianni had a family party at his home and she, who was too difficult to explain, was hidden down here for a week. As she leaned down to pry off the Manolo Blahniks her eyes caught the pile of magazines at the edge of the bed. They were still sitting there from that time.

“Well, Tara, what are you going to do now?” She muttered once her feet were free of the beautiful, dark toned torture devices. Her gaze wandered over the enclosed space in the corner that she knew had a toilet, a mirror over a tiny sink, and a standing shower behind its door. The shelves of the bookshelves along the other wall of bars were empty. Everything she’d kept in here at the beginning was now in her room upstairs – which was no longer
her
room, apparently. She didn’t care about any of the possessions, but she wanted her music. It kept her sane. Snagging the top issue of Vogue she flopped back on the twin bed, more dust flying up around her as she flipped to an article and started reading.

Sparkling motes of dust caught the light, dancing around her like faerie lights – but there was no magic in this place other than the curse that kept her there. This life with Gianni had only been beautiful on the surface – underneath it was hollow and empty. It wasn’t a love story. This was just survival, and as always… Tara would do whatever she had to in order to survive.