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as he’d taken in the sight of her. She had delicate, pert breasts, which her master had neglected to pierce. No piercings below her waist, either.
    It was an indication that he’d always intended to keep her to entertain himself for a while and then sell her for a profit. Unpierced slaves were easier to sell since most masters wanted to do that themselves. Piercings were personal, much like a brand, and not something many wanted secondhand. It would only drive the price down. Which begged the question of why he’d present her beaten like that. Such a thing was only going to appeal to the lowest common denominator––yet another hint Lucas had been genuinely mistreating the girl, not fulfilling mutual needs.
    He’d broken her, possibly beyond repair, and if Asher didn’t get her, it was going to be a downward spiral until one day she disappeared. He could still see her brown eyes when they’d met his blue. He imagined at one time they’d been warm and had sparkled with wicked thoughts and fantasies. Now they were just hollow. Empty.
    Why are you doing this? It won’t bring Darcy back.
    Intellectually he knew that was true, but emotionally? He felt if he could bring this one back from the brink, if he could save her, he would balance some kind of cosmic scale. A life for a life. If he could do that, then maybe he could sleep through one night without Darcy haunting his dreams.
    It wasn’t the only reason he wanted the slave, of course. He didn’t want another brat that would remind him of his last slave. Or someone who would be demanding. As broken as this one was, she wouldn’t demand or insist on anything. She’d warm his bed and do what he asked. It would be simple. Free of complication. Maybe her presence would quiet the mess his mind had become.
    He turned quickly when he heard a sound on the stairs.
    “I apologize, sir. Mr. Lucas Stone is on the phone for you.”
    “Thank you, William.”
    The butler made a little bow and ascended the steps. Asher took one last look at the bullwhip and followed.
    “Yes,” he said, when he picked up the phone. He placed the mildest edge of irritation in his voice, knowing the son of a bitch might not sell her if he thought Asher wanted her too much.
    “I see you took an interest in my slave tonight,” Lucas said, getting right to the point.
    Asher made a noncommittal sound. “She was all right, I suppose.”
    There was an amused chuckle on the other end. “You didn’t make an offer for her.”
    “I’m just looking. Not sure I’m ready to buy.”
    “I can see why you might hesitate, after your last slave was deemed a runaway .”
    The way he said the word runaway made it clear Lucas was as aware as everyone else that she’d died, though the rumors were that it had been directly by his hand.
    “Surprising that they never found her. How many places can there be to hide? Or maybe she swam off the island or escaped in a little boat.”
    Asher volleyed his own false speculations back. “Perhaps someone without a slave found her and took her. Even with the legalities, it can be hard for some to get their own, either because the price is more than they want to pay or because they have trouble finding someone who’ll come over from elsewhere.”
    “I’ll sell her to you for a million,” Lucas said.
    Asher swallowed. Don’t be too eager. “A million in island currency or another currency?”
    “Island, of course.”
    “Of course.” A million in island currency was more expensive than a million in any other currency. He was sure the asking price was higher than the other men had offered. Not that anyone would find her worth less than that amount, but it was a high price for anyone’s blood. The idea of giving a bastard like Lucas Stone that kind of money repulsed him.
    “Seems high. Not sure I think any slave is worth that amount. She’d have to be very well-trained. How long have you had her?”
    “Oh, she’s well-trained. I’ve had her just over eight