Page 29 of The Lies of Bryn van Doren

Jessica has to force a swallow in order to wet her throat, her shallow breaths making it dry. Just as she’s about to tell him her name, she stops herself before the truth passes through her mouth. She licks her lips, unable to tear her gaze away from his, even in spite of her nerves.

He’s handsome—surprisingly so. She doesn’t quite know what she was expecting. Perhaps someone less polished and poised, someone slicker and skeevier. Whatever it is she imagined, it doesn’t come close to resembling his unmistakably attractive face or his perfectly blue eyes. There’s something about him, something quiet and almosthiddenthat makes her almost not afraid.

Almost.

Her heart is beating so hard, the sound of blood rushing through her ears makes it difficult for her to concentrate—for her to remember she’s not in a cheap motel, but a luxurious suite filled with antique furniture and elegant details. The man standing before her moves, speaks, andtoucheswith a confidence she doesn’t understand. The warmth of his hand at her chin is a reminder that the source of hispowerin the room they inhabit is found in his bank account. As she stares at him, trying to find her voice, her anxiety takes on a different shape. No longer is she simply worried about a stranger touching her—she’s terrified she might not be enough.

He moves his thumb again, this time taking it higher and gently sweeping it across her bottom lip. “Your name,” he demands softly.

“Bryn,” Jessica breathes, forcing the word out.

He says nothing in reply. In fact, he stares at her so long, she wonders if he can somehow see through the lie she’s just told him. When he drops his hand away from her face, her stomach plummets, apprehensive about what might happen next. Then he takes a step away from her, and then another. Jessica’s breathing picks up speed, until she’s almost panting as she watches him.

He’s leaving, she thinks frantically.He doesn’t want me? Shit, what do I…

Her thoughts trail off into a jumbled mess of incoherent emotions as Godrik slowly strides to the wing-backed chair in the sitting area to her left. He picks it up, turning it toward her, and then eases down onto the seat. She forces herself to swallow, gripping her hands so tightly it hurts, wondering if instead of leaving, he’ll ask her to get on her knees. He runs the back of his fingers down the side of his bearded cheek, admiring her contemplatively. Jessica wills herself not to squirm as she waits for him to say something.

“Dance for me.”

Jessica sits up straighter, her grip around her own fingers loosening as she replays his request in her mind. She rehears him twice, but that doesn’t stop her from murmuring, “What?”

Godrik rests both of his arms on the arm rests of his chair as he repeats, “Dance for me.”

Relief washes over her like a cool tidal wave, and she gapes at him as she tries to wrap her mind around this unexpected turn of events. She doesn’t have time to make sense of any of it before her brain kicks her into action. She stands on shaky legs, certain she must do as he asks before he changes his mind.

“I—”

She stops almost as soon as she starts, silenced by the way his eyes take her in from head to toe, in what can only be described as tamed hunger. She doesn’t know what to make of his gaze. Her timid ego dares to feel beautiful while her conscience reminds her it’s not about that; all the while, there’s a soft whisper of a voice in her mind that alerts her to a small measure of respect she feels toward him.

She can’t explain it, but there’s something in his eyes…

Suddenly, she gets an idea and remembers what she had started to say. Focusing on the task at hand, she continues, “I’ll need music.”

Without a word of protest, she watches as Godrik reaches inside of his pocket and extracts his phone. He unlocks the screen and taps his thumb against the device a couple times before holding it out for her. She hesitates for only a breath before she crosses the short distance between them and takes his offering.

Turning her back toward him, she searches within his chosen app for the song that popped into her mind a moment ago. When she finds it, she draws in a deep breath, allowing herself to embrace that familiar sense of calm she gets just before the song starts. She’s never put on a show like this before, but it doesn’t matter—every time she dances, no matter where she is, the music always takes her someplace else. Someplace safe. Someplace likehome.

She presses play, turning up the volume full blast. “Dangerous Woman” by Ariana Grande starts to play as she sets the device on the vanity table. A small smile spreads across her lips as she lets the rhythm of the song sync with her body’s internal metronome. The lyrics start, and she steps out of her heels, kicking them out of her way before she begins to sway her hips. It only takes a couple lines, then her fear is gone, and all that remains is the music.

Khalohn’s eyes widen when Bryn turns to face him again. She whips around with so much intention he’s taken by surprise. As the music plays, her body moves in such a way, it’s as if she belongs to the song and the song belongs to her. What he thought might be a slow, fumbled, andmercifulattempt to get her to relax completely backfires in the most merciless fashion.

The woman who dances for him is not the woman she was in the silence. She’s breathtaking. She’s sexy. She’s confident. She’sfearless. Bryn doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she seduces him with every inch of her body. She dances with all she’s got—even her hair seems to be part of the choreography. And that’s exactly what it looks like, expertly punctuated choreography meant to drive him out of his mind. By the time the song comes to an end, he’s uncomfortably hard and on the verge of losing control.

She’s on her knees when the next song begins to play. The change in sound causes her to snap her attention toward his phone. She rakes her fingers through her hair, pulling it out of her face. Khalohn can tell whatever it is that took over her before is now gone. The panting woman on the floor is the vulnerable beauty he knows asBryn.

Khalohn stands abruptly, certain if he doesn’t leave, he’ll do exactly as he promised himself he wouldn’t. He crosses toward the vanity, takes up his phone, and silences the device instantly. He slips it into his pocket and then looks down at Bryn. If she were any other woman, and if this were any other night, the bulge trying the seam of his tailored slacks would be satisfied without delay—but she isn’t any other woman, and he can’t trust himself. Not with her. Not tonight.

Without a word, he dips his chin in a curt nod and then heads for the door. He grabs his jacket and the key, leaving her behind without a backwards glance. He ignores the erection in his pants, not bothering to don his jacket as he pulls out his phone and calls Atzel. He left less than twenty minutes ago, and Khalohn can hear the surprise in his tone as he promises to make a swift return—but Khalohn doesn’t pay it any mind. He disconnects from the call as Stefano comes into view.

A worried frown tugs at the man’s perfectly manicured brow. Khalohn speaks before he can give voice to his concern. “Tuesday. My usual time. No one touches Bryn between now and then.”

A subtle, pleased expression releases the tension in Stefano’s brow as he replies, “Of course, Mr. Morgan.”

It isn’t until Khalohn steps out of the lingerie boutique and into the humid night air that his hardened appendage starts to go soft. As his mind takes him back not even five minutes, the image of Bryn’s fingertips dragging up the length of her toned legs before swiveling her hips and dropping to her knees, her hair whipping back and forth as she worked the floor—there’s no going back. He’s hard as stone, and he knows he’ll have to deal with his heightened sense of arousal before he can sleep. He doesn’t relish the thought of getting himself off, but he also can’t deny the truth.

That was the best damn fifteen grand I’ve spent in weeks.

Jessica’s laughter diesas she looks across the crowded bar and sees Penn. It’s obvious he’s just arrived by the way he impatiently flags down the bartender. Jessica can’t help but to stare for longer than he deserves, his good looks irrefutable, even if the sight of him causes a sneer to pull at her top lip.

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