Prologue
Growing old sucks, growing old sucks. The thought whirled through Tess Avery’s brain like an out-of-control dervish.
Growing old sucks—yeah, okay, truer words and all that. Now, stop whining and focus! Come up with a plan, Tess, or you won’t have to worry about growing old because you’re going to be…don’t think it. Please, don’t think it! Think about your girls. Think about Sam. Oh, God, Sam, who showed you what real passion was. Sam, who made you believe in the possibility of happily ever after. Sam, who says he loves you.
You remember that. Get your brain in gear and come up with a way to get out of this, or you’ll never know if true love is real or just a myth. Think, you idiot!
Light glinted off the blade of the knife, and a new mantra slammed into her brain. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!
She strained against the scarves binding her wrists as he used the knife to slash open her nightgown, muttering as he worked, “You’re mine, Tess, you’re mine.”
The words were repeated over and over, an off-beat echo of her spinning thoughts. Growing old sucks. You’re mine. Growing old sucks. You’re mine. I don’t want to die. You’re mine. I don’t want to die. You’re mine.
Well, set it to music, Tess. It can be your funeral dirge because this lunatic is going to kill you if you don’t do something here!
He folded back her gown and swept his eyes over her body. She shivered, shook her head in denial then stilled when the knife caught her attention. It gleamed in the light, sharp and shiny, hungry for her flesh, her blood and…oh God, please, I don’t want to die.
He smiled as he set the knife on the bedside table, stroking the gleaming blade as if caressing a lover. After patting the handle fondly, he turned those crazed eyes back to Tess and whispered, “You are mine, Tess, my darling.”
His hand moved toward her face, and she cringed. He caressed her cheek, much like he had the knife just moments ago. Brushing the hair away from her forehead, he leaned over to drop a chaste kiss there, followed by one on each cheek and, finally, one on the tip of her nose whispering, “You’re mine,” after each touch of his lips.
The smile bloomed on his face once more.
Okay, that smile was starting to piss her off.
