Page 42 of A Kiss at Midnight

After an hour, he leads me to a private balcony off the main lodge restaurant, where a table is set with wine glasses; food soon arrives.

“I’ve spent some time mulling over what you said the other day, Jewel, and I jumped too quickly to an unfavorable conclusion.”

My heart starts thundering. Does he believe me? I’m fearful to voice the question. His next words make me glad I didn’t.

“Though I’m not sure what you’re hiding, I believe you have a story to tell.”

I’ve had so much wine — I really should’ve spit them out as the experts do — so now I have to fight past the fog in my brain. Sure, the glasses have been small and far from full, but I probably have had the equivalent of four to six full glasses by now. I need to eat some food before I can come even close to keeping up with this man.

“I thought you told me you don’t care about my story, Blake.”

“I shouldn’t care, Jewel, but oddly enough, I want to know more about you.”

“Why? Our time is going to be short-lived — as if I need to remind you of that. There’s nothing else you need to know about me.” I pick up a piece of bread and begin eating, hoping it will soak up the alcohol I’ve downed. I don’t dare touch the wine glass in front of me.

“Just because our time will end doesn’t mean we can’t have a civilized conversation for now.”

“I only want to get through our time together,” I tell him.

His smile evaporates as he looks at me intently. “I’m trying to be pleasant. I don’t appreciate that you’re not trying to do the same.”

“You can’t just suddenly flip a switch and expect me to pour out my heart to you. A few days ago you told me to do my job and not to think of feeling anything about you.”

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about that,” he says. I look at him with confusion. This has to be sarcasm; itcan’tbe anything else.

His eyes turn a bit colder after seeing my response, but otherwise he shows no emotion. “So you’d rather I treat you as nothing but an object, something I’ve bought — no... rented?”

“Yes, I do. That will be best for both of us.” He’s silent for a long time, and then his eyes narrow.

“Fine, Jewel. You want that. You have it,” he finally says, and a dangerous gleam appears in his menacing silver gaze.

Our dinner’s forgotten. Blake stands and holds out a hand, not as a courtesy but as a command. My stomach dips. But I take his hand, and when I stand, I sway on my feet. Where is he leading me? We end up in a small basement in the large house overlooking the winery, and I panic.

He circles me for a long moment, a predator assessing his prey. I’ve screwed up, but even knowing this, I can’t seem to tuck my pride away, and stop this.

“Strip for me, Jewel. If you want to be nothing more than an object, do a dance. If you want to try something different, tell me now, and we can go back to dinner and pretend this didn’t happen.”

The color drains from my face. I approached him the first time by stripping, by offering myself to him so he could help me. He’s putting me back in my place, back to the beginning, reminding me of who I am, and what I’ve done. It’s probably for the best. I can’t start caring for him. It’s best he reminds me of that.

I force myself to erase all thoughts, all emotions, to become nothing but a robot, a sex toy... and with defiance, I look him in the eyes and begin taking off my clothes. That dim lantern lighting the room is of small consolation. He sees everything. I can’t keep looking him in the eyes, so I sway my hips, and turn as my clothes fall away.

It doesn’t take him long to reach for me. We move backward until my back hits the wall. Then he lifts me and I damn us both as he quickly fills me with pleasure, our panting echoing in the small room.

By the time we leave, I’ve not only stripped and allowed myself to become nothing but a sex worker, but Blake has also stripped another piece of my soul away... and this time, it was my choice.

Chapter Review

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jewel

There’s no reasonfor me to be standing in the shower with doom hanging over my head. Something more has to be going on. I’m certainly not falling in love with Blake. That’s impossible. He’sbarelyshown me kindness. Yes, he held me close after the plane nearly crashed — though he insisted he’d been in control the whole time — and in other moments, I’ve seen small instances of kindness, but not nearly enough.

If anything, anytime he shows the barest amount of humanity, he quickly masks it by letting the dominant, controlling part of his personality take over. I still feel dirty after ourtrystat the winery. He took his pleasure with me against the wall in silence... other than our panting.

I’m relieved our time will soon end. I don’t know what will come next. That has to be the source of my doom. After finishing my shower, I slowly get ready for our evening. Tonight is the fundraising dinner with Blake, and the whole idea has my stomach in a constant state of upheaval.

I’m about to enter a world I’ve only read about. My mother provided a safe and stable home, but we lived on the lower end of the middle-class spectrum. The only fundraisers we attended were small-potato affairs at our public school. This fundraiser will pull in millions of dollars.

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