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distanced himself from her and become a true Jaquill who didn’t hesitate to order a kattanee to do his bidding without regard to their feelings. Not only had Jamar become the type of man the kattanee hated, but he’d left her without choices. There was no sense in arguing. She could do nothing less than obey, but she wouldn’t go down quietly.
    Though she kept her gaze downcast, she knew her eyes would have flashed angry, spurious fire if she’d allowed herself the luxury of looking at him. Not caring anymore what happened to her, even the bossman beating her, she yanked apart the fabric at her breasts and rent it down to her hem. Disheartened and raging at the fates that had stacked the cards against her, she pulled out of her sleeves and stepped out of the dress before she jerked out of her bra and her panties. Her clothes lay on the floor in a small heap. Pressing her lips together and preparing for the worst, she slowly straightened to her full height. Yet she didn’t look at Jamar, afraid of the coolness she’d find in those gold eyes she’d once cared for so much.
    Long seconds ticked by. She’d had no choice she kept telling herself, but as she repeated her mantra, something strange happened. She began to want Jamar with an intensity that defied logic and bordered on obsessive insanity. Kierra couldn’t hide the physical evidence of her arousal. Her nipples tightened into rigid pebbles, her skin broke out in vivid goose bumps, and if Jamar had been inclined to check, he’d have seen the juices weeping from her pussy.
    “Come here and kneel at my feet.”
    The preemptory order made her skin tingle and her face flame, but she couldn’t find the words to argue with him. Why did he want her so close? To torment her? To appease some sense of twisted humor?
    With leaden feet, she trudged toward him. When she saw his polished shoes in her blurred vision, she sank to her knees, waiting, her heart thrumming.
    She sensed him lean forward in his seat and held her breath. She’d have done anything for him once upon a time. Why had he changed so abruptly? Would she ever find out?
     
    Jamar set his hands on Kierra’s tense shoulders. She was trembling violently from head to foot.
    Slowly, gently, he edged his hands around to her back. Her pale skin was as smooth as lustrous satin. She still didn’t look at him and her chest rose and fell with the tiniest of breaths. Angered with himself at playing with her just to see how much she hated Becutan, he slipped out the elastic that held her hair in a tight constricting knot at the top of her head. He yearned to see her hair down, cascading over her shoulders and partially covering her aureoles.
    He sucked in a shaky breath as her hair fell in silky waves around her shoulders and to her waist. “Your mother and Absar are right,” he whispered, willing himself to warm up from the devastating hell he’d found himself in. “If I want to save your soul, I need to take you far away from here.”
    Finally, she raised her head, her mouth caught in a small ‘O’ shape, her cobalt eyes evaluating him. “You can’t save my soul,” she muttered.
    “I can save both yours and mine,” he said without hesitation. Lifting her onto his lap and noting her shocked surprise, he bent his head and took one nipple into his mouth.
    He was gratified that she arched her back and thrust her breasts closer to his face. The scent of her fresh-washed skin drove him wilder with high-pitched longing. She moaned from deep within her throat. His erection throbbed so painfully, he almost melted into her arms to beg for sweet mercy, but he knew none would be forthcoming. His mind buzzed with the realization that by ordering her to undress for him, he’d gone too far.
    Lifting his head, he examined her face. Her eyelids were closed tightly, and her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks. A single tear squeezed from the corner of her right eye. Jamar yearned to wipe it away with his finger and