Page 17 of The Vow

“I had Nonna set up this room for you. It has its own deck and the best views of the sunset,” he said, and then, collecting his thoughtfulness, added, “But you’re welcome to stay in any bedroom on this floor.”

“Where’s yours? In the west wing?” I wanted to make sure it was far, far away.

Damon’s eyes darkened. “On the main floor off the living room, and you’re more than welcome to stay in that one, too.”

My jaw clamped down, trying to subdue the goose bumps that revolted against my skin at his husky tone.

“I’ll stay in whichever room is as far away from you as possible.”

He widened his stance, and my eyes instantly drew down to his waist. There was no part ofthatthat could be hidden, nor did he apparently want to. “I have to say, Robber, your impertinence makes me so damn hard.”

My head snapped up. “And your proximity makes me so damn nauseous.” I spun and barreled into the bedroom.

Keeping my back to him to hide the clamor of my heart against my chest, I took a truncated scan around the room. Three serene blue walls circled the neutral bed, which faced the three window panes along the back of the house. One of them, on second look, was a sliding door that led to a small balcony. There was a tidy desk tucked into the corner, a stack of books on top, and two other doors that I assumed led to the closet and bath.

From the corner of my eye, I noted Damon hadn’t moved from his post in the doorway, but that didn’t stop his gaze from following me like a spark along a fuse. It chewed at my skin in small shivers of hot, white heat.

Fifteen years was a long goddamn time not to see someone. Long enough that my attraction to him should’ve been legally declared dead. But all it took was that one look. A single moment close to him, and not even hatred or hurt or the cocktail of the two was enough to stop my lust for him from rising from the grave.

“Well then, I think I’m going to take a shower,” I clipped, steeling myself as I faced him once more.

Maybe a few days in limbo wasn’t the end of the world. It would be time I could spend getting a better handle on the way I reacted to him.

“Of course,” he murmured, the silver in his eyes tarnishing with torment. Surprisingly, he was the first to look away, his head nodding in the direction of the last door. “The closet is full of clothes. All in your size.”

He smiled at the drop of my jaw, and I realized he took a kind of twisted pleasure in perverting the idea of a thoughtful, chivalrous gentleman.

Dammit, Damon.

This wasn’t some kind of twist onBeauty and the Beast. I didn’t need a wardrobe or a singing teapot, and if anything, I’d happily take a beast over my husband disguised as a too-handsome prince.

“How do you know what size I wear—wait, never mind. I know the answer. You stalked me,” I snapped. “Does this”—I swirled my finger in the air—“work with all the women you want to fuck?”

His smile evaporated along with the space between us. In an instant, he loomed over me. I must’ve turned as he approached because my back ended up against the bathroom door, his hands gripping either side of the frame.

I glared, tempted to knee him and shove him away, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I wouldn’t let him think that his closeness made me hot or his stare made me shiver. I wouldn’t let him think that there was any root of desire left in the way I felt about him.

“I only want you, Robber,” he said, his voice so deep and drawn it cut like a commandment into stone. “As ever, I’ve only wanted you.”

Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit.

I breathed slowly, like an animal caught in a trap. There was no fighting my way out of this. No ignoring or stonewalling him into keeping his distance. The only way to escape him was to play his game.

It wasn’t going to be pretty. In fact, I knew it was going to be brutal. The things I’d have to confess. The feelings I’d have to endure. The temptation I’d have to toy with. But I had to meet fire with fire even if it meant coming away with burns. In my opinion, burns were better than a broken heart.

Tipping my head back against the door, I lifted my hand, bringing it slowly up between us and placing it on his chest. His pec muscle pulsed under my fingertips, firm and strong. The corner of my mouth lifted as I flattened my palm there, feeling the charge of his heart against it.

“I’ve been watching you, too, Damon,” I admitted, letting my voice lose some of its strength. “All these years, watching what you’ve done. How you’ve risen. How you’ve stayed out of reach.”

As I spoke, I skated my hand higher, feeling the heat of him start to seep into my skin. The buttons of his shirt bumped under my thumb all the way to the starched edge of his collar.

“I know how you did it,” I murmured, allowing the catch in my voice as I dove off the edge of his shirt and onto the bare heat of his skin.

“Robyn…” he growled, the beat of his jaw pulsing as my fingers skated over it.

“I knowwhyyou did it.”

My gaze lowered to his mouth. I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop myself from tracing his lips, feeling their softness, remembering how they felt on mine—how they felt on me.Wonderingwhat those lips would do now if given the chance.

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