Page 12 of Vendetta Vows

Maybe I did once upon a time, but that girl is gone.

For seven years, I've perfected the art of invisibility, of keeping men at a distance where they can't hurt me or anyone I care about.

Yet here I am, trading suggestive banter with a man I just met, a powerful man who could easily dig into my past if something about me catches his interest.

But the terrifying part isn't that I'm flirting with Ruslan. It's how right it feels, like slipping back into a favorite pair of shoes I'd forgotten I owned.

"Someone bold and audacious even as she hides from attention." His voice drops lower. "But still wants the world to see just how bad she can be."

My breath stills.

For a second, I imagine leaning across the center console, grabbing his perfectly tailored lapel, and proving him right. I bet his lips would taste like the champagne from the party.

"I—" The word comes out strangled, and I clear my throat. "I think I've been bad enough for one evening. Maybe even for the whole year."

"Would you like some encouragement?" he murmurs, his voice thickening with each word.

My heart races like I've been sprinting. How am I supposed to answer that? Seven years of practiced caution screams at me to pull back, to remember why I don't do this. But something else, a desire that I've longed for in these seven long years, urges me forward.

Ruslan leans closer, his presence enveloping me in his irresistibly subtle scent. His hand reaches across, fingers grazing my cheek with surprising gentleness for hands that strong.

"Well,zarechka?" he whispers.

I don't know what the word means, but the way it rolls off his tongue makes my skin tingle. I should say no. I should remind him we're practically strangers. I should do something—anything—other than what I'm about to do:

I nod.

His lips brush against mine, tentatively at first, like he's giving me one last chance to retreat. But I'm tired of retreating. I'm tired of hiding. So I press forward, erasing the last bit of distance between us.

Oh god.

His mouth is warm and commanding against mine. One of his hands slides to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. The gentle tug sends electricity down my spine, and I can't help the small sound that escapes me.

It's been so long since I've kissed anyone, so long since I've allowed myself this simple pleasure. And this? This is no simple kiss. It ignites an absolute, all-consuming fire inside me, burning me up in a heat that I thought I'd forgotten.

Just as his tongue sweeps against mine, just as I'm reaching to grip his impossibly broad shoulders?—

HOOOOONNNNK!

We spring apart like guilty teenagers. The driver behind us is leaning on their horn, the light having turned green who knows how long ago.

Ruslan shifts the car back into gear with a casual grace that makes it hard to believe he was just kissing me senseless. He glances at me as we accelerate, one corner of his mouth curled up in a smile that's pure sin.

"I think by the end of the night." He takes a turn, his tattooed fingers manipulating the wheel with precision. "I'll see a glimpse of the real Aurora."

The real Aurora.

If only he knew there is no real Aurora.

Aurora Castellanos is built on carefully layered lies. A character that I've been playing for seven years while I hide from the monster of my past.

A flash of terror cuts through my desire. What if hedoessee through me? What if he somehow discovers the girl I used to be?

Jamie Fields is dead,I remind myself.She can't ever come back.

"What makes you think you'll like what you find?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

"Because I like what I see."

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