“What?”He set his glass down, reached for a stack of canvases stored under the coffee table and flipped one over to show me. There was a triangle ...ainted on it. Black paint.“Do you like it?” he asked.I looked at him and he looked expectantly back at me.I tried not to frown; tilted my head and tried to see the canvas objectively. The triangle looked perfectly triangular. But it was just a triangle.“Well?” Hanson asked.I cleared my throat.“Uh – so is that like abstract?”He turned away from. Her mind again flew back to Nathan’s imprisonment on her ship. How she had him shackled to the bed as she tormented him with her exposed breasts, her touch and her kisses. He had eventually given in, involuntarily surrendered to her. She would never give in to this man. He would never make her heart pound with passion, a groan of pleasure escape from her throat and most certainly not cry out in ecstasy. She stared back at him with icy eyes, her hands clenched at her sides. ‘Miss Veleslav, you. More

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