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De Silva tugged the duvet from her clutches.

Tasha's heart sank and her body quivered as it dawned on her how precarious a situation she was in. Yes, there was an unnatural glint in De Silva's eyes.

His intention couldn't have been plainer. Yet, Tasha's legs refused to budge.

But his eyes did not release the rebellion there. Silent resignation washed over her as Tasha climbed onto the bed.

De Silva's lips twisted. "Good girl," he whispered.

His eyes raked down her insulting caress. Tasha lay open, helpless.

And yet, still, which way he would go remained in the balance. The ticking silence was heavy with portent. Tasha's fate still clung in the balance, out at the mercy of de Silva's every whim and fancy.

De Silva's gaze stayed transfixed upon Tasha's quivering form. His smile grew endless, increasing with her every sense of fear. *** Pressing his gaze steadily on hers, he moved closer. Her heart was racing with anticipation while waiting for his further move. "Undress," he commanded