Page 30 of The Vow

“There was only you, Robber. Only ever you.”

I shoved back, stumbling into the stool and almost dropping the wine glass in an effort to put some distance between us. It was those words that hurt the most—the ones he said with so much sincerity it could sink a ship, and yet were so false they drowned me in their deceit.

“You don’t need to keep lying, Damon,” I snapped, pressing my towel to my chest. “I’m already here. We’re working together again just like you wanted. And when we’re done, you’ll be in prison and I’ll be free, just like I’ve wanted.”

“Now who’s lying?” His question was cloaked in casual amusement.

I let out a slow breath, pulling in all the emotion that had slipped free.

“Me?” I scoffed and set the glass in the sink and then stepped back to the island. Folding my arms on top, I watched his gaze drop instantly to my cleavage. When his eyes found mine again, they were blown out and burning with lust.

“Fifteen years, Damon. I’ve served a life sentence for my deal with the devil, and now, I’d like to go free.”

The briefest shot of anger hardened his expression before he masked it with a cocked smile. “Prove it.”

Heartbeats spilled into my veins, skittering like a stampede of emotions I couldn’t control. Meanwhile, he turned and started to eat, and I couldn’t stand how nonchalant he was with his disbelief.

How could he think I’d want anything different after what he’d done?

“If I had my polygraph equipment here,I would.”

“Lucky for you, I have one of my own.” He turned the stool to face me, his towel draping wider, but what caught my attention was how the cloth distended over the ridge of his long arousal.

Goddammit.

Heat coiled, desire flushing my skin. It had been so long…too long…forgood reason.

“Fine.” I jerked my gaze up and played along, ignoring the husk in my voice because I refused to be beat. “Where is it?”

Damon lifted a single finger.

I blinked, my brows winging up, and then a laugh tripped out of my chest. “What are you going to do, feel my pulse?” I straightened and shook my head, propping my hip on the edge of the counter. “Sorry, Damon, you’re not that good.”

This conversation was pointless. Even with a lie detector, he was too arrogant to believe I no longer wanted him, and I was too cautious to actually hook myself up to a machine that could make me a liar.

I pushed away from the counter, intending to finally leave the kitchen. I thought I’d kept myself far enough away from him, but as it turned out, I hadn’t. A long arm stretched out, fisting the front of my towel and hauling me back to the pen between his thighs.

Goddammit. Had I been that close to him? Or had he grown Michael Phelps’s arms from all that swimming?

His silver stare was molten as it roamed over me, desire unraveling in my core like a dropped ball of yarn as madness threatened the fringes of my sanity.

“Let. Me. Go.” Heat crackled with every punctuated word like lighter fluid on the lies. I ached for this closeness. For his touch. For the oblivion of his affection.

I’d spent the last fifteen years alone with nothing but my purpose. My revenge. It was my choice to not move on in waysthat could’ve changed this—that could’ve quelled this pathetic desperation for him. But I’d chosen not to, and now, I paid the price.

My nipples pebbled hard, the towel suddenly painful against the sensitive buds. And lower, my core clenched, feeling how close he was. Reminding me just how lonely I’d been. Empty.Heartbroken.

“Robber…”

Air hissed through my teeth. I could back away, but there was a ninety-nine percent chance that if he didn’t release his hold, I’d end up naked in front of him in the process.

“Let go,” I ordered again, but instead of releasing me, Damon held up his finger.

A single, long finger. And I watched it come toward me like an arrow streaking toward its target. First landing on my cheek and then taking a soft sweep along the curve of my jaw.

A shiver unspooled from my spine. I wanted to jerk away.No, I wanted to turn into his hand and beg for more of his touch.And that was exactly why Ishould’veturned away. But if I did, he would know. He would see the effect he had on me. He would realize how I ached for him in spite of how I hated him, and then he would win.

And I couldn’t afford to lose whatever was left to me to the man who’d already taken too much.

---