Page 18 of The Vow

This was the dangerous part. Getting close enough to hurt him meant getting close enough to get hurt.

But he’d already broken my heart,I reminded myself,and still being married to him meant it had remained broken.

“You know why?” he rasped, his entire body vibrating with tension. “Tell me.” And then his lips opened, and his teethcaught on the pad of my thumb, hard enough to cause pain but not so much that it hurt.

No sooner did I gasp than he released me. Dragging my eyes to his, I met his gunmetal orbs, desire turning them bright the way fire turns a brand red-hot.

I pressed my thumb to his lips, sliding it along them as I tipped closer. Our breaths created a raucous tangle as my mouth drew closer to his. Almost close enough for one taste of everything I hated myself for missing.

The twinge of pain in my chest was enough to set me straight. I sacrificed my stare and kept control of my tongue, gliding it along my lips until I heard the deep groan of want thunder in his chest.

“You lied, Damon. You became the best liar of them all. And that’s how I know you don’t want me, because all you’ve ever wanted is what doesn’t belong to you,” I said, packing every ounce of strength and bitter coldness into my voice.

I dropped my hand to my side and braced back against the door, preparing for whatever wrath was coming my way.

Damon’s jaw fired like a machine gun of frustration, and then as suddenly as the clip running out of ammunition, he straightened and let his arms fall to his sides.

“The clothes in the closet are only for you.” There was no roughness. No strain. No sign of anything unstable underneath his calm composure.

His lack of pushback deflated the wind from my sails. Maybe my plan hadn’t worked. Maybe toying with his lust wasn’t enough to stop all his false shows of thoughtfulness.

“I’d rather wear?—”

“Nothing?” he finished with a perfectly arched brow and a wink. Gone was the man in turmoil, his flirtatious charade returning in full force. “I’d rather that, too, Robber, so you’ll get no complaints from me.”

Do not murder him.Do not murder him.

I stared at the perfect spot on his back to plant a knife as he walked to the door.

Pausing there, he turned back. “If you need anything, Nonna is my housekeeper and cook. She’s in the kitchen if you want to meet her or want to be force-fed the thousand-calorie dinner she wanted to make to welcome you.”

“Let me guess, you told her to starve me instead, thinking hunger would make me more compliant?”

His low laugh dissolved into a shake of his head. “I told her your favorite is pasta carbonara. The real version without the cream and with extra cheese.”

All these years, and he remembered…

He remembered, and he used that sharp memory of his as effectively as a knife through my chest.

“Fuck you, Damon.”

“One day, Robber, your opinion of me is going to change.”

“I agree,” I shot back, my throat tight. “One day soon, it will change from knowing you’re my lying, cheating, criminal husband to knowing that you’re not.”

His stare lingered for a second more, the smallest figment of that former anguish flaring, before he left and closed the door behind him.

Still fuming, I went into the bathroom, turned the shower on scalding, and set about burning the feel of him…the acheforhim from my weak, traitorous skin.

Damon Remington was exactly the man I thought he was—the man he’d proven himself to be. A callous bastard who’d broken my heart. And when this was all over, I would undo the ties that bound us. I would finally free myself of the heartbreak personified as my husband.

Chapter Six

Damon

Fifteen years ago…

“Who are you?” shehissed, hardly waiting for the door to shut behind Magnus before speaking.

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