2
EVELINA
It’slike watching a house of cards months in the making come crashing down at the first leisurely lick of a breeze. Like nailing all thirty-two fouettés in the Black Swanpas de deuxonly to lose your balance on the final relevé into fifth and break your ankle.
Every cell in my body screams in panic. Every nerve ending blares like sirens in my ears. Every inch of my skin quivers. But there’s no escape.
He’s not outright choking me, but the malicious intent is clear in the quiet, humming power under his fingertips as they leisurely stroke the pulse points on either side of my trachea. Icy, arctic blue eyes pin me to the spot, his head tilted slightly to one side as he looms over me, studying me out of bored curiosity like I'm a bug, or a briar he’s just plucked off the hem of his slacks.
Sweat sheens the small of my back beneath the shimmery gold dress. My pulse skips, heart tripping over itself as I stare horrified up at his masked face.
“I—no, my name is Viv?—”
The whimper gurgles and dies in my throat as he applies just a hint more pressure with his fingers.
“Why don’t we try this again,” Vaughn murmurs quietly. “This time, let’s make a conscious choice totell the truth.”
I shiver at the way his words ooze so sensually and effortlessly from his lips, while also carrying so much weight and power. At the way his eyes seem to be slowly peeling back first my clothing and then my skin to peer right inside me.
There’s an unsettling calmness to him that sinks into my very bones and turns my insides to jelly. I swallow uncomfortably against the hand at my throat, my head slightly tipped back to look up at him as he towers over me.
He’s so freaking tall.
I mean, I’m on the short side at five foot three. But Vaughn iseasilya foot taller, possibly more. All it does is add to the throbbing, pulsing power that emanates from him.
His body is lean and yet clearly muscular, with broad shoulders straining at his black dress shirt and the obvious biceps bulging beneath it. Inky black tattoos snake and coil around his strong, veined forearms and up from the opening of his shirt from his muscular chest to his jawline.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
“I’m only going ask you once more,Evelina,” he murmurs with a quiet intensity, his smooth, smoky voice wrapping around me like tentacles.
My larynx jumps against his hand as I dart my eyes to the side, trying to see how far we are from the door.
“No. That's aterribleidea.”
My nerve endings spasm as his thumb presses against the throbbing pulse in my jugular. But that even, deep tone of his yanks my attention right back to him.
Up into those piercing, ice-blue eyes.
I don't say anything. Ican’t. All I can do is stare, transfixed by that cool, arresting look in his eyes.
He stays silent too, like he’s waiting for me to make the next move. So we just stand there, him looking down into my face with ice in his eyes and the animalistic, moaned sounds of screwing wrapping around us and turning my stomach into knots.
A slight glint sparks in his eyes, and the faintest shadow of amusement twists the corners of his lips.
“Are you uncomfortable, Evelina?”
The small of my back grows damper. My palms become clammier as I rub my thumb anxiously against my index and middle fingers.
“I…” I try to force a calm and ease I don’t feel at all into my posture and tone. But it’s a laughably useless show of bravado, especially when my voice cracks and a violent tremble ripples through my shoulders.
“The activities in this room. Do they bother you?”
I shake my head side to side. “N-no,” I croak.
His lips curl a bit more.
“Really? You’retotallycomfortable with everything you see right now?”
