THE DRAGON had brought her a cocktail dress.
It was a pretty little number, short and flirty. Catalina studied herself in the mirror and wondered how the Dragon had guessed her size. It fit perfectly, clung to her waist and her hips before falling loosely to mid-thigh. Only in the bust was there room for improvement, and there wasn’t much she could do about that.
She fixed her makeup in the bathroom mirror, feeling increasingly absurd. He’d brought her heels, too; she resembled an actress, or maybe just an expensive prostitute. She’d never worn makeup before, struggled to apply her mascara. The Dragon knocked on the door. “Hurry up, little one,” he said. “You’ve taken long enough in there.”
She applied some lipstick. Good enough. She wasn’t going to slave away to make herself look pretty just so he could—
Just so he could what?
She forced the thought from her mind. She knew what the Dragon wanted from her. She knew he would probably get it. She could only hope that he would decide not to bother Irina any longer, or her parents, if she gave it to him willingly.
A storm was descending on the city when she tottered out of the bathroom, unsteady on her brand-new high heels. She struggled to maintain her balance as she walked out to the living area. The Dragon had dimmed the lights in the dining room, lit candles and set them on his ugly table. There was a meal waiting for her. A bottle of wine. The Dragon stood at the head of the table. He wore a dinner jacket. He looked as absurd as she felt, with his big beard and unkempt hair, his toothy, wicked smile. Behind him, sheets of rain pelted the window.
The Dragon licked his lips when he saw her. “You’re the perfect prize,” he told her, eyeing her up and down. “Come sit down.”
Catalina froze. Every instinct she had told her to run, run as fast as she could, kick off those heels and bolt for the door. She didn’t, though. She knew the Dragon would catch her. She swallowed her fear and walked to her chair.
The Dragon waited until she’d sat at the table. He filled her glass with wine, loaded her plate. “I ordered in,” he told her. “Duck. Have you tried duck before, girl?”
Catalina shook her head no. The man was jumpy, she noticed. Erratic. His eyes were alight, his wicked smile wide. Catalina watched him, unnerved by his agitation. Wondered how long he would keep up this stupid game.
“Drink up,” he told her, motioning to her wineglass. “We have a long night ahead of us.”
She picked up the glass, hesitant. Sipped the wine. The Dragon smiled at her again. Sat back and admired her as the storm began in earnest outside.