A slow, infuriatingly seductive smirk spreads across his lips as his eyes deliberately slide down to the neckline of my dress, lingering shamelessly on the swell of my breasts. My pulse quickens, anger and desire twisting within me until I nearly lose my grip on composure entirely.
"Oh, I rather like the tone exactly as it is," he murmurs, his voice a velvety rasp that sends a forbidden thrill down my spine. He leans closer, eyes smoldering with blatant intent. "But I'll tell you what—I do have a weakness for bribes." The suggestiveness in his tone makes my heart hammer violently against my ribs. "With the right…incentive, I might just be convinced to reconsider."
I stiffen instinctively, suspicion warring with reluctant curiosity. "What kind of incentive?"
He reclines comfortably, eyes glittering coldly yet filled with predatory amusement. "Prove you're worth indulging."
His arrogance ignites something reckless within me, shattering my composure. My palms slap the table sharply as I lean forward in defiance, my voice rising in agitation. "Hayden, you really can't see reason here?"
His bored expression only intensifies the humiliation burning through me. He’s looking at me in a way that makes me feel smaller than I want to admit.
I narrow my eyes slightly, desperately clawing back some semblance of control. "Then at least tell me how long you plan to keep me here."
"Indefinitely," he replies with infuriating casualness, sipping his drink calmly, "but I may be obliged to tighten your leash if your attitude doesn’t improve."
He picks up his knife now, looking down at the polished silver and then flipping it up in a smooth motion, just to bring the pointed end of it back down into the rich mahogany of the dining table.
A threat to both me and the ancient dining table.
I bite back the protest rising in my throat and drop my eyes, recognizing the futility of continuing this line of discussion, not sure the knife itself isn’t the threat. Clenching my jaw, I resume eating in silence, determined to survive whatever game he's playing.
Ignoring everything in the room, I allow my gaze to blur, feeling lost as I stare down at my perfectly cooked steak and creamed potatoes. If there was supposed to be a middle ground, I am pretty far from achieving it.
Were I better at my approach, perhaps thought harder about the ways to reach him, I could have penetrated his icy shell.Instead, I’ve failed and gotten myself no closer to Lilibet, my dear horse, or Eulogia. I fight back the tears that gather in my eyes, and I study my dinner plate, finding it impossible to look anywhere else without crumbling.
I sit frozen, unable to look up when he calls my name softly. All I can seem to do is stare at my steak, with tears welling in my eyes.
Suddenly, Hayden rises swiftly, stepping around the table with startling decisiveness. Before I can react, he's swiping aside my plate and glass of wine and has lifted me effortlessly onto the polished surface. My breath catches sharply, and instinctively, my legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer.
My eyes meet his.
“There you are”, he says, his voice deep and thick with something I don’t understand. I don’t know him well enough yet. His smirk deepens triumphantly, eyes glittering with a dangerous intensity.
“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice dripping velvet-soft threats, “I prefer you defying me.”
My pulse races, betraying my composure, but I meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to be conquered so easily. “Don’t flatter yourself. You haven't won anything yet.”
His hand slides along my jaw, thumb brushing against my lower lip, a deceptively gentle touch.
“Yet,” he echoes, his voice darkly amused. His breath grazes my neck, igniting an involuntary shiver. “There’s always room for negotiation.”
“I won’t negotiate my surrender,” I whisper fiercely, even as my fingers betray me, gripping the collar of his shirt tighter, pulling him inexorably closer.
Hayden chuckles softly, dangerously confident. “No surrender, then.” He leans in, lips ghosting just inches from mine, taunting, testing.
Before I can respond, his mouth captures mine, fierce and commanding, demanding submission. My resistance melts into his fire, yet beneath my yielding, a promise simmers: he might have me in his grasp, but victory won't come without cost.
Without thinking, I’m moving. My fingers dive into his hair, twisting into silken strands as his tongue invades my mouth, claiming every inch possessively.
He kisses me as if he hates me, like we hate each other. His hand comes up to wrap around my throat and squeezes. He swallows the whimper it forces to escape my throat, savoring my surrender as heat spirals dangerously through my veins.
With his lips on mine, he shoves me back so I’m lying spread across the table. The polished wood feels suddenly cold beneath me, a stark contrast to the scorching press of his body pinning me down. His other hand travels my curves with unapologetic greed, searing trails of sensation over my skin. I arch into him instinctively, hips grinding against his, craving friction, desperate for more.
“You pretend so well,” Hayden growls against my lips, his voice rough and thick with hunger, his hand at my throat gripping tighter and beginning to take my breath away. I gasp into his mouth from the pressure and reach up to grab at his wrist.
In a heartbeat, Hayden captures both my wrists in one swift, dominant motion, pinning them above my head. The sudden restraint forces my chest forward, arching my body into his possessive hold. A dark, satisfied growl escapes his throat as his lips trace a burning path along the curve of my neck.
“Still think you're in control?” he murmurs roughly, teeth grazing sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp I can't suppress. He bites at the soft flesh between my neck and collar, and I yelp out from the pain.
