Page 90 of Vega

“I need to finish dinner before the sauce burns.”

I turned toward the stove, but Vega caught my wrist before I could pretend the moment hadn’t happened. “I’m not apologizing because I regret it or because I don’t want you.”

I kept my eyes on the skillet. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Yes, I do.”

His grip loosened, but he didn’t release me. “I lost control.”

I finally looked at him.

“I told myself I wouldn’t touch you like that while you were trapped here, then you kissed me, and every good intention I had disappeared.”

My body reacted to that, despite feeling so embarrassed.

“You’re stuck in my house. I control whether the doors open, where you go, and when this ends. I don’t ever want you wondering whether you gave yourself to me because you thought you had to. I also don’t want you making a decision that big under these circumstances because I’m scared you’d regret it.” He stepped closer again, though he kept his hands to himself. “You waited for a reason. I respect that.”

My throat tightened.

“What you’re giving the first man you choose isn’t something small. It’s a gift, and I want you to be sure I deserve it before you hand it to me.”

That should’ve helped calm me down. Instead, it made me want to give it to him even more. No man had ever spoken about my virginity like it was precious instead of evidence that I was inexperienced, awkward, or behind everyone else.

“Thank you,” I slowly smiled.

Vega studied me for several seconds. “I have feelings for you.”

My heartbeat stumbled.

“I don’t understand them yet,” he continued. “I don’t know how they got this deep this fast, but they’re there.”

I didn’t know what to say. A man like Vega had options. He had money, power, confidence, and access to women who understood his world. Women who knew how to touch him without trembling, how to satisfy him without needing guidance, and how to exist beside danger without questioning every decision. I was inexperienced, overly analytical, and so nerdy that I found comfort in spreadsheets and books. Yet he looked at me as if none of that made me less desirable.

I knew I felt something for him too. I simply didn’t feel entitled to those emotions. He had kidnapped me. He controlled my freedom. No matter how safe I sometimes felt with him, the situation remained wrong and complicated.

I opened my mouth to admit that I felt something for him that I couldn’t explain but he told me, “You don’t have to say anything.”

I paused.

Vega released my wrist. “I know what I did to you. I know this situation is toxic, no matter how either of us feels inside this house.”

His honesty surprised me.

“I’m going to kill Roman, open those doors, and give you your life back,” he said. “Then, if you still want to get to know me better when you’re free to walk away, you can choose that on your own.”

I stared at him. He wasn’t asking me to promise anything. He wasn’t demanding that I repay his protection with affection. He was offering me a choice.

The one thing I had been begging for since I arrived.

I turned fully toward him and smiled. “I’d like that.”

His usual control softened in his face. Then his eyes dropped toward the stove.

“Your sauce is burning.”

I gasped and spun around.

Behind me, Vega laughed while I snatched the skillet from the heat and tried to rescue dinner with weak legs, swollen lips, and a heart that no longer understood which parts of him it was supposed to fear.