Page 41 of Temporary Vows

Someone like him wouldn’t understand what it feels like to have your back against the wall. He’s Dorian Vale. He wouldn’t know what helplessness looked like if it hit him in the face.

“Would you have?—”

“Stop it.” I hold up my hand, cutting him off, and pull out of his grasp. “Stop trying to scare me. I knew what I was getting myself into.” The words tremble out of me, but at least I’m talking. “I knew coming here could have destroyed me.”

“Yet you came anyway?”

“Yes. Now get off your moral high horse and tell me what you want.” My breathing turns shallow as his eyes darken, thatfamiliar predatory stillness settling over him like a second skin. “What do you want for your sixty thousand dollars?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

For a moment, he just stares, his eyes drifting over me with brutal patience. His gaze lingers on the robe, and I remember that he knows what I look like underneath. A flush of embarrassment grips my insides like a hand at my throat, but then I swear I see a flicker of something that looks like desire hidden within his arctic gaze.

Maybe I imagined it.

When I was younger, I would have given anything for him to look at me like…like I wasn’t just Jack’s baby sister. Like I was one of the girls he liked.

He steps forward, slow and deliberate, his eyes still fixed on me.

What is he going to demand from me?

He gave me a list of possibilities—things that could have been demanded from me in this room.

What will I do if he wants to have sex with me?

He’s not some stranger.

He’s Dorian Vale, the unobtainable, unreachable, off-limits guy with a side to him that’s darker than pitch.

He moves closer, and my God… I’m right. His eyes—the look in them turns sharp, shifting into something hot and possessive that makes my stomach drop.

It’s pure hunger, and it’s so potent my instincts kick in and I step back.

He follows.

He keeps coming until the only place left for me to go is the wall.

My back meets it, and my breath catches.

What I’m not prepared for is him.

Dorian lifts one arm and plants his hand against the wall above my head. His body boxes me in, and there’s nowhere to go but into him.

My pulse turns stupid, and my body locks down. The little bravado I had moments ago fades, and all I’m left with is whatever happens next.

I’m trembling, and I hate that he can see it.

“What indeed shall I take for sixty thousand dollars?” His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second, then lifts, locking onto my eyes like a warning. “A kiss. I want a kiss.”

My heartbeat stalls, then surges back into a panicked rhythm. “A kiss? You want a… kiss? For sixty thousand dollars?”Not sex. Not humiliation. Not some twisted punishment. Just a kiss.

“Yes.” His voice doesn’t waver. “You…kiss me. But be warned, little lamb, you’re about to find out what darkness tastes like.”

I don’t move for a beat. My mind catches on his words—his warning.

A warning I should heed, except I’ve always wanted to know what darkness tastes like.

Everyone knows what happens to moths who chase flames. And still, I’m the moth, drawn to his darkness.