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Time for what? I want to question him further, but I know it’s futile. Instead of answering, he climbs out of the car and extends his hand to me.

Somehow I hadn’t pictured my captor as the church-going type. “Where are we going?” I ask Julian when the car pulls up in front of a stately old church in a wealthy-looking neighborhood.

It makes me crave arepas-corn cakes that I used to get from a Colombian food truck in downtown Chicago. I can see traces of its Spanish heritage everywhere, mixed with a uniquely Latino flavor. Bogotá has a certain ‘Old World’ vibe that I find fascinating. I’m too busy staring at everything as we drive through the crowded streets.

Lucas assumes the role of our driver again, while Julian continues working on his laptop, seemingly absorbed in his task. “You’ll see.” And opening the laptop again, he focuses on whatever he was doing before.Ī black car similar to the one that dropped us off at the airport waits for us when we get off the plane. “There is something I’d like to get done before we fly to the estate.” “You could say that.” He looks vaguely amused. Picking it up, he walks over to sit down next to me. “Bogotá,” he replies, closing his laptop. “What city is that?” I ask, turning towards Julian. As the plane breaks through the cloud cover, I see a large city spread out below, with mountains looming on the edge of it. Strapping myself in, I look out the window, curious about our destination. I will definitely have bruises for the next few days.

“Okay.” I follow his suggestion, trying not to flinch at the pain caused by the simple act of sitting down. You should get into your seat-we’ll be landing soon.” My butt hurts because you whipped me, but that’s okay because you trained me to enjoy it? Yeah, sure. “I’m fine.” I don’t know what else to say. “How are you, my pet?” he asks, his voice low and intimate, and I feel a hot flush moving over my entire body in response. He looks serious-and so devastatingly beautiful that my breath catches for a moment.Īs though sensing my presence, he looks up, his blue eyes gleaming. The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up, exposing tan, muscular forearms, and there is a frown of concentration on his face. When I enter the main cabin, I see Julian sitting on the couch, an open laptop on the table in front of him.