Page 51 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
Fear of how good it will feel to surrender.
Not just to Dominic, but to everything he represents.
I’ve heard of men like him—men who take. Men who command. Men who don’t ask for your heart, but demand your trust.
Your submission.
Your truth.
Maybe once, a long time ago, I could have given that.
Before Davis.
Before I learned how dangerous love could be.
Davis never raised his voice. He never struck me. He didn’t have to. He made me believe every mistake was mine. Every failure was my fault. Every stumble was proof that I wasn’t enough.
Why are you so sensitive, Elena?
Why do you always overreact?
You should be grateful someone like me even noticed you.
Little cuts, every day.
Until I apologized for things I hadn’t done, begged for forgiveness for wounds I hadn’t caused. Until I couldn’t tell where I ended and his disappointment began.
I remember the way his hand would brush my arm—not reverent, but corrective.
A warning dressed as affection.
Compared to that, Dominic’s touch is an earthquake.
That night, standing in the dark, watching him before the fire…It wasn’t shame that rooted me in place.
It was awe.
The way he touched himself. Confident. Not ashamed. Like a man worshipping the hunger inside him, instead of denying it.
He let it consume him.
No apologies.
No shame.
Just truth.
And somehow, the truth he showed me stripped me bare, too.
Because Dominic doesn’t want my kisses or my body.
He wants my surrender.
And if Davis could gut me with the scraps I offered willingly, what would Dominic be able to do if I gave him everything?
The longer I’m around him, the more I realize those professional boundaries I keep clinging to aren’t about the job. They’re not about my reputation. They’re not about common sense, or what I should and shouldn’t do.
They’re about fear.
