Page 44 of A Touch of Dark
Stop.No fear. No flashbacks. He won’t win again. Determined, I keep on smiling. At the bar, I buy a round of drinks for everyone and take the first shot to come my way, pushing the thoughts back.
When the last tab is finally paid, I enter a town car alone and direct the driver toward the Harrison Hotel rather than the Lariat. I book my usual suite and toy with the idea of buying a bottle of wine from the downstairs bar. Something cheap enough to make a rich bastard choke.
Somewhere during the trip down the hallway, I lose my nerve and enter my room painfully sober. Groaning, I strip my coat, leaving it by the door. Then I switch the light on and head straight for the bed, intending to sink beneath the covers and into oblivion.
A shadow catches my eye at the exact moment an ominous scent floods my nostrils:roses.My footsteps falter, forcing me to clutch the wall for balance. I’m just paces from the door, but escape feels miles away.
“Wait,” my intruder commands. He stands near a massive window with his back to me.
I tense. He’s dressed in black, accented with gray tonight. Like always, the blindfold is tied neatly over the ridge of a black ponytail. In any other circumstance, I might consider him appealing.
As it stands now, I can’t read the bastard at all.
Daddy’s tried-and-true method fails me thoroughly where Damien is concerned. The man wears no mask. There’s nothing to judge. Just plenty to hate.
“Get the hell out.” I’ll beat him to the punch. My fingers swipe at the door but tremble too badly to grip the handle. I knot them into fists and inhale.Get a hold of yourself.“Now,” I huff between ragged breaths, “before I call the police—”
“I’d like to suggest that we renegotiate our previous agreement.” He’s too calm. Even though I know he can hear me pawing at the door again.
Yes. I get it open. All I have to do is throw myself over the threshold and run.
“If you’re still willing to agree to my terms, that is.”
“Your what?” I snap. How dare he keep talking as though this were a normal meeting. A normal day. As if we were normal goddamn people.
“My terms.”
“Terms?” I parrot him while looking over my shoulder. “Did they include leaving me incapacitated?”
And alone. In the dark. Something he himself mocked me for fearing. Not that it matters. He can play silly mind games all he wants—just as long as he keeps his toys to himself.
“By the way, I found one of your little spies.” I expect him to at least flinch in some semblance of guilt. The bastard doesn’t even sigh. “Right. You called me boring, but how interesting mustyourlife be if you decide to listen to mine every fucking day, huh?”
Oh, because hehasbeen listening.
“Please close the door, Ms. Thorne. Then we can discuss why I’m here.” He doesn’t sound so suave anymore. The catch in his voice prompts a manic surge in my heartbeat—but out of fear or triumph?
My, my, it looks like I’ve annoyed the unflappable Mr. Villa.
Good.
“I don’t think so.” I pull the door open wider. “I want everyone in this whole damn building to hear. Come for me and I’m screaming.” Which will be quite the feat considering I’m barely speaking louder than a whisper. “Now, get out—”
“I wanted to…apologize.”
I tense, waiting for the laugh. The cruel punchline. The mocking taunt. Panic sweeps through my veins when seconds pass without him performing either act.
“Most men send flowers to do that,” I croak. “They don’t break into people’s private rooms. Though, with your affinity for destroying things, maybe you should stick to mangling rose petals. By the way, I looked into my father’s record as you suggested.”
He inclines his head. “Oh?”
“Congratulations. I’ve learned that he’s a good man who’s done his best to right his past mistakes. Anything else? Any more nasty hints you want to drop? No? Then get the hell out—”
“You sound healthy enough. The drug can sometimes cause lasting fatigue. You’ve recovered?”
He’s doing it again. Displaying that terrible knack of humanity like a switchblade, shoving it discreetly where it can penetrate the deepest. He doesn’treallycare. Despite the way his head tilts, putting his ear in the prime position to catch my reaction: gritted teeth and rapid breaths.
“I recovered, all right. I had plenty of time while I wascrawlingto my room alone, in the dark, to reflect upon why I should listen to my father the next time he warns me about a dangerous, psychopathic—”
