Or maybe she was normal, and I was the one with a masochistic delight about being blackmailed into it.
Vincent seemed to read the rapid emotional climate change on my face. “I enjoy it. Don’t change the way you kiss, Jane.”
“I won’t,” I said, my lips moving against his thumb. It’d be ridiculous to try, anyway. I couldn’t foresee myself ever losing these desires. “I couldn’t.”
“There’s an art gala in Conchord in a month, four Mondays from now,” he said, the rapid change in topic making my head spin. Conchord was a city nearly two hours away, where many of the families of the Bourdillon faculty lived.
“That sounds… nice.” My bra was dangling off the back of the chair. I grabbed it and started fastening it back on, wondering what a rich person’s gala had to do with me. “So you won’t be here that Monday.”
It’d be ridiculous to admit I was disappointed. I didn’t own Vincent’s life; he owned mine. It was no problem of his if he disappeared on one of the Mondays I desperately looked forward to.
“Neither will you.” Vincent rebuttoned his trousers when I slid off his lap. “You’re coming with me.”
I froze halfway through pulling my jeans back on. “I’m sorry, what?”
He straightened his shirt and found mine, turning it right side-out while I finished zipping my jeans. “You will be accompanying me to the art gala. It would be an excellent opportunity to interview several nationally-renowned artists for your articles.”
I took the shirt with numb fingers and pulled it on. “I can’t be seen with you. That’s just asking to have my scholarship pulled.”
He brushed my hair back into place and rested his hands on my shoulders. I felt so small staring up at him, and completely aware of how much control over my life he had.
“I will be the only representative from Bourdillon, aside from Professor Spears.” He brushed my cheek as he spoke, and somehow that tiny gesture made everything much more feasible. “No one else there will know or care why you’re with me.”
“Will I be there in a professional capacity as a student, or-?” My voice closed off before I could saydate. I wasn’t date-material for someone like Vincent Thayer, and just voicing half the question seemed ridiculous in itself. My cheeks flushed red.
He gave me one of his rare smiles. “As my date, Jane.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I don’t belong there.” Hell, evenifno one cared, which was a long shot in my opinion, there was no way I was mingling with the upper crust of society in Wal-Mart heels and a borrowed dress. I’d be a pigeon surrounded by peacocks, a fish far out of my depth.
That was far more horrifying to me than the secret relationship I was carrying on with them.
“You can and you will, Pet.”
His use of my new nickname drove home the fact that I would be going, whether I wanted to or not. This was part of the price I paid.
I didn’t say anything, just looked down. The glowing ball of contentment in my chest had become a rock that sank right down into the pit of my stomach.
He forced me to look back up at him, fingers clamped hard around my jaw. “Stop with this shrinking violet nonsense, Jane.”
“It’s not nonsense,” I mumbled. “I’m not like you, which you know perfectly well, and you’re using it against me.” It’s not like they could’ve blackmailed anyone but the scholarship student.
“I’m forcing you to open up and face your fears. You just fucked me like your life depended on it. Remaining fully dressed in a room full of people who can advance your career is nothing compared to that.”
“You and I are the only ones here.” I glared up at him now, ignoring the ache of his hand on my face. “That’s a lot different than putting myself on the line in front of people who might know I’m a student!”
Vincent’s smile twisted into a smirk. “None of them will know you’re there in anything but a professional capacity. As tempting as it might be, I won’t be ripping off your dress and fucking you on the exhibits.”
My toes curled at the thought, sick puppy that I was.
“You could have anyone there as your date. I’m not… not the material for that world.”
He finally released my face and brushed a stray strand of my hair back into place. “Your excuses bore me, Jane. You’re going.”
With that final pronouncement of doom, he kissed me hard enough to bruise.
Chapter Fourteen
I strode furiouslyto the library, but my rage cooled with every step I took.