Page 26 of Vicious Games

He tapped his finger on the tip of my nose. “Yes.”

I cast my eyes downward and slowly nodded, knowing it was useless to fight him.

Roman wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me away from the wall. I bit my lip as he once more crossed behind me. I raised my gaze to stare at the massive wooden doorway to his gothic home. I knew I would never reach it in time. Nevertheless, my body and mind screamed, run!

My thigh muscles tensed as I shifted one foot forward.

Did I dare?

Roman’s strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back into his body. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “You’d never make it.”

My cheeks flamed. Once again, my demon love had guessed my thoughts.

I swallowed, unable to speak.

He pressed his arm hard into my middle before releasing me. His arms draped over my head with the blindfold stretched between his fingers. This time I didn’t object.

In a small show of defiance, I kept my eyes open until the last possible second as he pressed the black silk over them, shrouding me in darkness.

Roman placed a hand on my lower back as he guided me forward.

I held my arm protectively out in front of me, and he clasped my left hand in his and tightened his grasp.

I heard the front door open.

Our footsteps crunched on the gravel drive.

A strange voice startled me.

“Good evening, Mr. Winterbourne.”

Roman whispered in my ear, “It’s just the limo driver, darling.” He then called out, “Good evening, Jonathan.”

A car door opened.

“Watch your step,” said Roman as he guided me into the spacious interior.

I sank back into the thick upholstered seat. My hand instinctively touched the blindfold.

Roman’s hand enclosed my wrist and drew my arm down. “No peeking.”

I listened as the limo door shut.

I splayed my fingers out on either side of my hips on the seat. My body gently rocked forward, then back as the limo pulled out of the drive.

The interior was silent.

I strained to listen for sounds of movement. “Roman?”

Nothing.

“Roman?”

When he didn’t respond, I once again reached for the blindfold. A hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. I gasped and pulled back. “Roman, what are you doing?”

His hands rested on the tops of my thighs. He slowly pushed the hem of my dress up.

I blindly reached for the fabric, fisting a handful between my knees. “Roman! The driver.”

---