She fought to escape her family, only to be caught by a billionaire. Possessive. Commanding. And determined to keep her.
Emerson LeBlanc wants to own the little painter. She’s become more than his obsession. She’s part of his collection now.
Except she’s more perceptive than he’d like. Her artist’s eye sees the shadows in him. She paints his pain on stretched canvas.
He’s determined to own her. She’s determined to escape.
In the end only one of them can truly be free.
“You’re not the only one who can’t leave.”
She sucks in a little breath at the realization. It’s a stark one. The frame I’ve made for her is also the boundary of my own existence. I take little trips here and there. Galleries. Openings. Auctions.
I follow my obsessions.
But on the whole, my life is here. It wears the illusion of being expansive, but even eight thousand square feet can become too constraining.
Not usually for me.
For a hummingbird like Daphne, on the other hand…
My stomach sinks. This is when she’ll reach the logical conclusion and look at me with the worst possible emotion in her eyes.
Pity.
She’ll feel sorry for me. She’ll see how small, how limited, how enclosed I am.
How worthless.
No amount of money can buy a sense of security. Believe me when I say I’ve tried. It can’t be bought or collected or kept. It will always be just out of reach. I don’t know if she’ll see it so clearly. I can’t leave her here. Technically, yes. If I had to, I could walk out. In the end, it’s not me doing the caging. It’s my past. It’s my mind. It’s the panic.
Either way, she is not alone in her captivity. Either way, I won’t leave her here. She nearly died trying to escape into the world. Being at the mercy of her own mind could be just as dangerous. I know that as well as anyone.
My thoughts retreat. They want no part of this twisted emotion. A choking disappointment. My father was right. This place is just a reflection of a wasted son. It’s a difficult thing, to be worse than my father, but I’ve managed it. The world files neatly onto canvases and colors die into black and white. Snowflakes tumble outside the window. Pure diamonds against the shadowed sea. The water teases the horizon, the two of them blending together until they’re indistinguishable.
Daphne is saying something.
I find her upright, looking into my eyes, past my defenses.
“Where did you go?” she asks. It must be the second or third time she’s said it.
“I wanted you to be free.” All those methods of distance fail. One by one. They tear like cheap paper. I was lying to both of us. “I don’t want you to be a prisoner here. I’ve always wanted you to be free. You’re like a hummingbird, little painter. I want you to go where your wings take you.”
“Emerson.”
The words won’t stop. They won’t leave it be. “I’m a weak, selfish bastard. I couldn’t give you what I wanted you to have.”
Innocent Daphne Morelli is more exquisite than anything he’s ever seen. He becomes obsessed with her. It doesn’t matter that she’s a living, breathing person with her own hopes and dreams.
She’ll be the perfect addition to his collection.
There’s no redemption for a man with his past. No future for a relationship built on stalking and kidnapping. At least that’s what he believes. When he meets Daphne again, she’s not a piece of art. She’s a woman determined to paint a new path. For herself. For him. Except the ocean holds more than shadows. It holds danger that could ruin them both.
Amelia Wilde is a USA TODAY bestselling author of steamy contemporary romance and loves it a little too much. She lives in Michigan with her husband and daughters. She spends most of her time typing furiously on an iPad and appreciating the natural splendor of her home state from where she likes it best: inside.
Amelia is a USA Today best selling author from northern Michigan. Be her friend!
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