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care how much “freedom” it’d give her. A pair of jeans and a
lightweight blouse was the simplest things she could find. She
wasn’t out to impress Roark. She certainly wouldn’t be using the
fancy evening dresses and stilettos.
    The bathroom gave her another round of admiration.
It wasn’t just a bathroom, but more of a retreat or spa. From the
granite counters, glass vessel sink with high-arc waterfall faucet,
to the multi-head shower, it was sleek and elegant. However, what
enticed her more was the deep freestanding tub big enough for not
only two, but three or maybe four. She visualized herself bent over
the side, pinned—by Roark. “Oh holy mother of all good, what in the
hell is wrong with me?” An image of his thick cock came to mind and
her thighs quivered. Her temperature rose a few degrees and she
wanted to pound her head against the wall to dislodge any thought
of the ogre penetrating her.
    She was impressed—with his dick and choice of décor—
and she sure wished she wasn’t. Did Roark think he could persuade
her to like being his captive? He was an evil, egotistical man who
was holding her against her will and he was going to be arrested,
she’d see to that. He was a lunatic who believed in some madcap way
that she was “chosen” to have his offspring. Did he even realize he
was on Earth, not Mars?
    Sliding out of the sheet she’d taken from Roark’s
bed, she climbed under the hot mist of the shower. With one nozzle
targeting her head, another at her back, and if that wasn’t enough
pleasure, a pulsating spray aimed directly at the apex of her
thighs. She didn’t know such things existed where she could get
clean and satisfied at the same time. A giggle erupted and she
closed her mouth to stifle any noise. She didn’t trust the ogre. He
was probably lingering like a pervert, listening. On second
thought, Roark wasn’t the peeping type. She had a feeling that if
he wanted something, he wouldn’t be passive aggressive.
    The fact remained, she didn’t want to be here. She
wanted to go home.
    Finishing, she got out of the water, dried off and
dressed.
    Glancing at the clock, she remembered he’d given her
thirty minutes. She had an urge to take her glorious time and let
him simmer. Who was he to give her a time limit? She was an adult
for goodness sake. Testing him was an option, but she knew what
he’d do, and the last thing she wanted was for him to come into the
bedroom. So, reason outweighed retaliation. Leaving the room, she
made her way down the stairs, feeling like the kitten walking into
the lion’s den.
    All of the curtains were closed on the windows and
no lights were turned on, making the downstairs dark.
    Did Roark know she was wandering his mansion? He’d definitely not like her snooping. That was his problem, not
hers.
    Like a prowler sneaking through the shadows, she
continued her investigation. At turtle pace, she moved into the
unknown and found it somewhat exciting. Her heart raced as the
hairs on the back of her neck lifted. She expected Roark to sneak
up behind her, which made her nervously peek over her shoulder now
and again. Not knowing the layout of the bottom floor made her
apprehension rise, but she followed the hallway, peeking into
several rooms— guest bathroom, workout room—as she passed. The next
room brought her excitement. A library! The shelf-lined
walls were brimming with books. Interest consumed her and
excitement motivated her. She crept in silently, her nostrils
filling with the strong odor of mahogany, leather and paper.
    As a child, she had dreamt of having her own library
where she could pick a book and curl up on a window seat, then fall
into fantasy. Being quite the nerd growing up, she’d preferred
books over people. Not much had changed, not in the scheme of
things. She still spent more time reading than socializing. That’s
why she enjoyed her job and was good at publishing.
    Sliding her hand along one shelf, she fingered each
binding,