Page 46 of Make Me Lie (Rich Demons of Darkwood 1)

I stared up at him. Remington owned the yacht; who was he to offer me a tour? “Who the hell are you?”

His gaze colored with anger. “Watch your mouth, slut.”

He raised his hands like he was going to grip my shoulders, and my hands rose subtly, preparing to snap his grip loose and drop this asshole to the ground. I wasn’t in the mood to be touched… at least, not by anyone but Cain.

But his hands never landed.

Cain suddenly grabbed him and threw him into the wall. Girls in bikinis and heels screamed and ran—it’s hard dressed like that, huh, girls?—as Cain looked down at him, pummeling the man with short, sharp punches around the head and shoulders. The man folded up like a paper doll, dropping to his knees in front of Cain.

“Apologize to her.” Cain’s voice came out in a growl.

“S—sorry,” the man all but sobbed, not even looking up at me.

“Don’t you ever fucking look at her again.” Cain grabbed the nape of my neck--did the man have a kink or what—and steered me ahead of him toward the stairs. “Someone clean that up and get him off the boat.”

Two crew members moved toward the man and the blood smear Cain had left on the floor.

“So protective,” I noted.

He laughed in my ear, his body pressing against mine as we reached the top of the stairs. His hard cock and abs pressed against my ass and lower back. “No. But I walked in here with you tonight, and I’m not going to be disrespected by that little trust fund bitch.”

The memory of his degrading words in that dungeon scene rose in my mind. “Oh, so you’re the only one who can call me a slut around here?”

His lips brushed the shell of my ear, sending a ripple down my spine. “You haven’t earned your way up toslutyet.”

His voice was dark and sexy, and suddenly, some wanton part of me understood why some girls didn’t mind the dirtiest, cruelest phrases when they were spoken in that voice.

“What are you two up to?” The deep voice was deceptively casual, and I turned to find my ex-boyfriend staring at us with his arms crossed over his powerful chest.

The only thing that could make my bizarre night even more… interesting.

Stellan.

12

Aurora

“Iwas just rescuing our wayward girl from yet another admirer,” Cain drawled.

They must all know, then, about my fan club—and how Remington had used that fan club to anchor me to them all. Great.

There was the purr of an engine constantly underfoot, and I looked over the side to realize the lights on the horizon were steadily falling behind. We’d started out to sea while I explored below decks. I was trapped.

The only way to escape these men for now was through that vast, dark sea, and the thought made nausea squirm in my stomach.

“She’s pretty good at rescuing herself.” Stellan’s gaze found mine, pinned me. “Aren’t you?”

My mouth had gone dry. When I was around Cain, it felt as if I fed off his dark energy, became more like him. But Stellan… Stellan undid all that. Stellan made me feel like an off-balance teenage girl with her first crush again, vulnerable and tender and exposed… and hopeful.

It had been that sense of hope that had been my undoing, when I let myself care about Stellan and Sophia.

“Maybe.” My voice came out cool, and it gave me the confidence to go on, even if it was an act. “But I don’t think you know me as well as you think, Stellan.”

“I certainly made the mistake of thinking I knew you before.”

Cain’s gaze swiveled dramatically back and forth between the two of us before he pronounced the conversation, “Boring,” and walked away.

The yacht had come to a stop and was rocking gently on the waves. Cain jumped onto the railing surrounding the yacht, then jumped off, doing a flip in mid-air before he disappeared into the black water. Everyone else cheered, but my stomach tightened, and I couldn’t resist the urge to rush to the side to make sure he came up. As Cain broke the surface, grinning, others rushed to fling themselves over the railing, none with his grace.

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