Uncovering You 3: Resistance by Scarlett Edwards Read Free Book Online

right. Like I belonged here, beside him, cradled in his arms.
    Those feelings are wrong. Oh, they’re so very wrong. How can I be thinking that about the man who’s been manipulating my life since before I even knew his name?
    I push myself up to a sitting position and try to calm down. Last night was more than wrong. It was dangerous . I’m not supposed to be harboring any good feelings about the man.
    The fact that I do—or rather, that I did —frightens me. I’m alone in his room now, with the sun shining through the many windows, but I feel as lost as I was when he left me in the shadows.
    I’m not supposed to enjoy anything Stonehart does to me. Did I take my role of playing the perfect prisoner too far? Could I already be succumbing to Stockholm syndrome?
    But, no. No, no, no. I think Stockholm syndrome is defined as having feelings of empathy toward your abductor. And I will never allow myself to feel any sort of warmth toward Stonehart.
    And yet… wasn’t that exactly what I felt in the afterglow of our lovemaking? When I thought of him as Jeremy? Not as Stonehart, but as Jeremy ?
    I know that’s what he wants me to call him. And that’s what I do, in my speech, but never before have I thought of him by his first name. He’s always been Stonehart. Cold, impenetrable, manipulative Stonehart.
    The fact that I let my guard down enough to think of him as Jeremy scares me. Jeremy is a first name. It implies intimacy and comfort.
    It is completely the opposite of what I need to feel around him.
    Where is he now? I look around the room, but there’s no trace of him. He’s probably already at work. But, I can’t be sure. He might very well be in one of the many rooms of this mansion, waiting to ambush me the way he did when he left on his “three-day” business trip.
    I climb out of bed and hesitate before deciding on my destination. I feel suddenly dirty after last night. Guilt tears at me for how easily I allowed myself to enjoy what we did.
    I start for the doorway, then stop, turn around, and walk to the window. I make a point of ignoring the secret doorway I know is hidden on one wall. I don’t want to think about the surveillance equipment in there.
    I lean against one slim metal pillar and gaze outside. If Stonehart is still around, I want him to hear me moving. That way I can’t possibly get into any trouble for leaving the room without him knowing.
    I hate how every action I take has to be considered with regard to how Stonehart will see it. Something as simple as going down to the sunroom becomes an affair I have to contemplate and mull over to ensure it won’t be taken the wrong way.
    I fucking hate it!
    I look at the glassy sea. It’s stretching all the way to the horizon. Today is a bright, beautiful, autumn day. There is no trace of the storm that raged yesterday. The sky is cloudless. The white sun shines on the water, making the waves and crests glimmer majestically.
    I spot a tiny sailboat in the distance. Seeing it makes me feel a pang of longing. The ocean represents freedom. The glass separating me from it is a cruel reminder of how far away that freedom is for me.
    I wonder who’s on the boat. I wonder what he sees when he looks at the shoreline. How many houses surround Stonehart’s? Could someone be looking at me from that boat, right now, without me knowing it?
    I sigh and turn away. Those are morose thoughts. Depressing thoughts. But, they fit my mood this morning.
    I walk back to the bed and perch on the edge. I look at the messed up sheets, another reminder of last night.
    I can hardly believe that I spent a night in Stonehart’s arms. That I slept in his bed. Willingly .
    I hear footsteps outside and look up. My heart starts to race. Is he back? Did he hear me moving? Did he—
    Rose emerges from the hallway.
    I sigh with relief.
    She smiles kindly at me. “There you are, dear,” she says. “I thought I heard you up and about. Would you like some breakfast? Charles has