Page 49 of Sinful Honor

A dark, twisted mass settled into my body, filled the familiar emptiness with a feeling of lethal power that took over, right before the kill.

Let her fear me.

Only me.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

How could the touch of someone so cruel, so cold, feel so soft?

He gave me whiplash.

He tended to my wounds, and his touch felt almost caring—but then he said things like,“If you leave this room, you’re dead.”

I shivered.

Was this a threat?

Probably. Then why did I still feel like he cared for me?

Was this what Stockholm syndrome felt like?

Probably.

But I was stronger than that.

Strong enough to resist whatever net of lies he’d woven around me.

He stood and marched across the room. Even the way he walked was all dominant and determined.

I turned around so I could see what he was doing.

He unzipped a suitcase. Did he just arrive?

“Where did they take you?”

He was still asking questions, but I was done talking to him. I folded my arms over my chest—aware of my nakedness.

He’d seen it all—but I hadn’t received a single creepy vibe from him. Not when he carried me into the hot tub. Not when he tended to my welts.

And not now when he looked up, his eyes narrowed when I didn’t answer his question.

But the more information I gave him, the more he could use against me. “Why won’t you let me go?”

He retrieved a bag and made his way back to the bed.

“Because I can’t.”

He turned me sideways so my wounded shoulder faced him. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep then.”

He chuckled, then he touched my hair and brushed it to the side. “You can always try, but just know”—he leaned forward—“once you lay hands on me”—his hot breath hit my skin like a caress—“all bets are off. I won’t hold back. And I won’t be nice.” His voice had changed into a growl. Dark and hard and laced with a dangerous promise.

My core quickened.

Holy shit. This was crazy with a capital C.

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