Let go, Snowflake. Take me, little one.
A scent of cigars and whisky filters through the room, attacking my nose. He’s here. He can’t be. I know this, but the hallucinations never stop. It’s as if he follows me everywhere I go.
My heart leaps into my throat and my mouth opens, but no words come out. He doesn’t know how much I hold onto. The thought of letting go is like me leaping off the roof. I may as well be dead. I can’t find the appropriate response to explain my life to this man. Even though I want to let go, I’m not sure I can. “Look, Carter—”
“Shh…” he whispers and reaches up to place a finger on my lips, which causes a tingle to trickle its way gently through every nerve in my body. “If there’s one thing you’ll learn about me, Ms. Carmel, I never take no for an answer. I’m also an expert at making sure you relinquish anything you’re scared of. Lastly, make no mistake, I don’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to, but I guarantee you’ll release whatever you’re holding onto, beautiful.” He leans in and I feel the heat of his lips on my ear. “I promise. You’re a temptation in the dark, Ella.” His voice drops on my name, caressing it, savoring it.
And you seem to be mine.
His words are a promise that sparks the tension between us. The room feels too warm, my head spinning out of control. Taking a step back, I glance at his heated gaze and smile. “You’re very sure of yourself, Carter.”
“I am because it’s true. Allow me to take you to dinner, please,” he asks once more, but there’s no self-assurance in his expression, merely curiosity.
“Dinner. Nothing more,” I acquiesce finally.
He nods with a smile. “A friendly dinner it is.”
I nod in agreement and turn to the room we’re in, which is furnished with walls of bookshelves and comfortable chairs. I make my way toward the books and run my finger along the spines. “These are beautiful.” They’re all rare classic volumes.
“You like the classics?”
I nod, casting a quick glance at him. Turning back to the books, I follow along all the beautiful spines of gold lettering. Everything about this room is alluring, decadent, and beautiful, just like the man I can feel behind me.
His hands grip my hips and hold me still. Blood heats as it flows through my veins, vibrating with need. “Do books turn you on, Ella? Because from where I’m standing, I think they do.”
I smile at that but don’t respond.
“Don’t think, just feel.”
I stay silent and when his hands splay on my stomach, holding my back against his chest, the heat of him searing me, I gasp.
“It sounds like the classics are your favorites.”
Clearing my throat, I counter, “Are you trying to tease me, Mr. Hamilton?”
“Perhaps… it seems to be working because there’s something almost sinful running through your mind right now. Isn’t there?”
Even though it normally scares me being in such close proximity to a man, I don’t fear him.
His lips feather against my skin and the tremble that shudders through me causes a stir in my lower stomach. My nipples are tight peaks and once again, he’s turned me into someone I don’t recognize.
I want him. I want to let go.
As much as I want to say no, to refuse him, I know I won’t because for some unfathomable reason I know in my heart he’s not the monster, he’s the prince.
“Do you trust me?” His voice blankets me and calms my racing heart.
Without waiting for my answer, he turns me around, and while caging me against the bookcase, his breath fans over my face. The scent of his spicy cologne reminds me of cinnamon, and it envelops me, holding me in its warmth. And I realize it’s safety.
Dragging my eyes gradually up his neck, jaw, and over those full lips, I hold my breath, and when my eyes meet his, the blue is shimmering like an ocean.
“I don’t like waiting for an answer, Ms. Carmel.”
My teeth bite down on my bottom lip, and his eyes darken to a stormy sea. Flicking my tongue out, I wet my lips and smile.
“I don’t trust men, especially those I don’t know.” The words are raspy and we both hear the lust dripping from my every syllable. My pulse races. Electricity skitters over every inch of my skin and I lean back against the shelves that hold romantic words.
“What about the ones you do know?” His question is innocent enough but guts me. He’s right. I shouldn’t put my trust in any man. Stranger or not.
“Those are worse,” I respond honestly.
“Ella, there’s nothing here to fear,” he promises, but I know words are just that, empty vows. I was long ago promised a stepfather who would care for me, who would love me, and nurture me. But those were all empty guarantees.
It’s true, though. The men you know better than anyone, those are the monsters. They’re the ones who hide in plain sight. I spent my young life hiding from the pain. The promise of a better tomorrow ensured I survived. And now I won’t easily succumb to pretty words and whispered temptation.
“Carter, I said a friendly dinner. We’re working together, and that’s all there’ll ever be.” If he knew how completely shattered I truly am, there’s no way he’d ever want more from me.
“We do work together,” he agrees. “That means we’ll be spending a lot more time together. That’s where trust will grow and blossom. Let me tell you something, Ella, whatever you think you know, forget it.” He leans in and my breathing accelerates, but his mouth hovers over mine, merely inches away.
I don’t ever remember a feeling like the one coursing through my veins at that moment. Emotion grips my throat violently; my lungs struggle for air. My mind flits back and forth between the here and now, and the dark memories that plague me.
He murmurs, “I don’t force. I don’t take what’s not given. When I’m with you. When I kiss you, it will be because you asked me to. No, scrap that. It will be because you begged me to.”
I want to nod, but I don’t. I just watch him.
We’re chest to chest and I place both palms on his sculpted shoulders. His hands trail down my arms and find my hips, gripping them, tugging me closer. Fear is at the back of my mind as I find bliss for the first time in my life and it’s addictive. He’s tempting me, making me want it rather than taking it without consent.
Every inch of this man has snagged me, kidnapped me, and is holding me hostage as he stares me down. He presses his body against me and I feel how much I affect him. It’s only then fear crawls its way up my skin, clawing my neck and squeezing until I’m wheezing for air.
Feel that, Snowflake? That’s what you do to men. You’re a filthy little whore.
I push against him and he allows me space. I’m breathing deeply, but my lungs don’t want to work. Anxiety hits me. A panic attack looms around me. It’s here. He’s here. Shit.
I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.
“Ella.” Concern is evident in his tone.
I take deep breaths, all the while holding on to his jacket. As if he’s an anchor, a lifeline that I need to find my way to the surface while drowning in fear.
“I’m okay. It’s okay.”