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lip gloss smeared, eyes needy, mouth panting. He is staring at me as if he is terrified of me, his hands gripping the granite of the counter’s edge, his chest heaving. He suddenly moves, holding up his hands and moving slowly away. “Just … Christ! Just stop asking questions. Please.” He moves away, a door slamming a moment later as he moves to his part of the house.
    I worked at the Crystal Palace a total of three years, three months, and twenty-one days. My empty days give me time to calculate useless statistics like that. You’d think that length of time spent before men, gauging their level of arousal, would have taught me something — would have taught me the difference between harmless flirting and a danger zone. It would have given me enough experience to steer me in a direction other than the one I am in right now, which definitely feels like danger.
    My hands are shaking. I hold them before me, staring at the tremor. I sink to the kitchen floor, picking up my water bottle, my eyes noticing the spilt water. I take a deep drink, waiting for my heart to calm, my hands to still, my shakes to pass. I need to get to my room, need to separate myself from him, from this kitchen. I need to take a shower, to lie down, take a nap. I stumble away from the counter, grabbing my t-shirt, putting foot ahead of foot in a quest for normalcy. As I walk, leaving Nathan’s house and returning to my sanctuary, two last questions dominate my mind, possibly the most dangerous questions of all.
    What if Nathan finds out?
    What if it happens again?

CHAPTER 10
    Word: 3 letters
    Clue: A low-lying island or reef
    8 :30 AM: My phone rings, an electronic melody that somebody at some point in time deemed to be the proper level of fancy. I hate it. What’s wrong with a good, old fashioned ring — the kind created by a physical bell in the phone that vibrated with the power of an incoming call? My phone rarely rings, Drew or Mark typically taking the short walk to my room if I am needed. I pick up the receiver. “Hello?”
    “Mr. Dumont would like to leave in fifteen minutes. Will you be ready?” Drew’s voice is cold and efficient.
    “He wants me to go with him?”
    “Yes.”
    I hesitate, looking down at my outfit. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    I am nervous as I approach the house. Does he know about Drew? Is this about my father? Where are we going? I step into the cool confines of the house, seeing Nathan’s profile in the dining room, his phone to his ear, his head turning at my entrance. He stands, looks me over, and then nods in approval. My innards relax at this subtle compliment. I don’t know why I am nervous. My outfits have all been selected by his stylist, all the proper level of sexy society wear. My hair is how he has deemed it, my makeup carefully applied as I have been taught. There is no reason for him not to approve my appearance. But I still feel stress leave my body at that subtle nod. He waves his hand, beckoning me to follow him, and we step into the bright sunlight of the front drive, where Drew and the Maybach await.
    The Maybach. I am surprised, the limo our typical vehicle, the Maybach used when Drew and Nathan are alone. I arch my eyebrow at Drew as he opens my car door.
    “Guess it’s not that kind of trip, princess.”
    I hope my quick entrance into the car hides my blush. Nathan does often use the space of the limo to satisfy his sexual needs. In retrospect, maybe that is the only reason we take the limo. We certainly don’t need that much space.
    In the back of the Maybach, Nathan seems too close, the area not large enough for his ego and my nerves. I think this is the smallest space we have ever shared. I clasp my hands in my lap, cross my ankles, and try to breathe normally.
    Nathan ends his call and looks over at me. “I have to go to the courthouse to sign some documents. I thought we could kill two birds with one stone and get your new identification.”
    My mind groans at his