Dropping the towel, she lifted the gown over her head, sighing with pleasure as the garment slithered over her bare skin.
She glanced around the room, hoping to find a mirror, curious to see how she looked in such a costly gown, but to no avail.
Crossing the floor, she drew the heavy draperies away from the window and peered at her reflection in the glass. The material clung to her like a second skin, outlining her breasts, the curve of her hip.
"Silk," she murmured, running one hand over the gown in disbelief. "It feels like silk."
"And so it is."
Releasing the curtains, Rhianna whirled around, her arms crossed over her breasts in an age-old feminine gesture. "My lord, I didn't hear you come in."
"Do you like the gown?"
"Y... yes," she stammered. "V... very much."
Rayven regarded her through narrowed eyes.
Cleaned up, with her hair falling in damp waves down her back, she was quite the loveliest thing he had ever seen.
He took a step forward, his hand reaching to touch a smooth, peach-colored cheek.
With a little cry, she backed against the wall.
Immediately, Rayven lowered his hand. "I will not hurt you," he said quietly.
Rhianna swallowed hard, mesmerized by his voice. It was deep and soft, yet strangely compelling, as were his eyes. Fathomless black eyes that looked old beyond their years. Eyes that seemed able to look into her and through her at the same time.
Moving slowly, he closed the distance between them, stopping when he was only a breath away. She had not realized how tall he was. He loomed over her, his long black hair framing his face like a dark cloud. He was dressed all in black save for his shirt and a blood-red cravat loosely knotted at his throat.
A thin white scar bisected his left cheek. His nose was straight and aristocratic, his lips full and sensual.
She guessed him to be in his early thirties.
Like a mouse mesmerized by a snake, she watched his hand move toward her, felt his fingertips stroke her cheek. His skin was smooth and cool.
"How old are you, girl?"
"Fifteen, my lord."
Rayven swore under his breath. He knew many girls her age were already married and had borne children. Still, he had not thought her quite so young. Not that it mattered. He had no designs upon her flesh, soft and smooth though it might be.
"Shall I... shall I get into bed, my lord?"
"If you wish."
He watched a blush stain her cheeks as she slid a glance at the bed.
"Should I..." She gulped, the blush in her cheeks spreading down her neck. "Should I disrobe?"
Rayven raised one brow, then shook his head. "I've no intention of bedding you, girl."
"No?"
The relief in her voice caused a sharp pain in the nether regions of a heart he had thought long past feeling. "No."
"Then why..." Her cheeks grew redder. "I thought..."
"I bought you for reasons of my own, sweet Rhianna," he replied, his voice as silky as the gown she wore.
"Might I ask what those reasons are?"
"No." He turned away from her, his hands clenching at his sides. "You may have the run of the castle, save for the rooms in the east tower. You are never to go there."
"Yes, my lord."
"Bevins will supply anything you wish. You have only to ask him."
"Anything?" she asked.
"Anything. If you desire to paint, he will provide canvas and brushes. If you wish to play the pianoforte, he will instruct you. If you wish to pass your days reading, I have a rather extensive library."
"I don't know how to paint or play the pianoforte or read, my lord." She lowered her gaze. "I don't know how to do anything."
He swung around to face her, a curious light in his eyes. "Would you like to learn?"
"Yes, my lord," she said eagerly, "very much."
"Bevins will teach you whatever you wish."
"Thank you, my lord."
Rayven stared down at the girl. Her eyes were blue, like a summer sky, like the lake in the village where he had spent his youth. Deep blue eyes, filled with excitement. And fear.
She was afraid of him. The thought cut deep, though he could not fault her for it.
"Bevins will take you shopping tomorrow. Buy whatever you need."
"You are most generous, my lord."
"Not at all, sweet Rhianna, for the price will be dear."
Her eyes widened at the veiled threat in his voice. She clasped her hands together, hands that trembled violently.
"You have nothing to fear from me," he said. "After tonight, you will not see me again."