I wanted him so much it twisted my heart. I wanted him to want me, to treasure me. But he’d always been upfront. Hell, he’d even told me he would gladly torture me all over again. He swept his tongue into my mouth, trying to erase all thought from my mind and nearly accomplishing it. His scent was all over me, marking me as his. I loved it and hated it at once.
I broke the kiss before I fell back under his spell. “I can’t.”
“My dick is still inside you, Stella, and now you can’t?” He moved his hips for emphasis, sending a thrill back to my clit.
I pushed on his chest and he withdrew, pulling from me. I wanted him back immediately. He took in my body, the bruises coloring my nipples where he’d bitten me, the marks on my neck, his fingertips imprinted on my hips. He still looked hungry. I wanted to feed him.
I couldn’t.
I pulled the fluffy rug up to my chest. He met my eyes.
“This was a mistake,” I said.
“I know.” He searched around, found his boxers, and pulled them on.
His words stung me more than they should have. The heat from the fire was oppressive now. He grabbed a remote and turned it down to a low flame. He ran a hand through his hair in what I now recognized as the classic “Vinemont man in distress” move.
“This can’t happen again,” he said. “None of it. We just have to make it through the year. That’s all.” He put a resolve into his words that I knew he didn’t feel. “This was just…circumstances.” He waved a hand at the windows where sunlight now poured through.
More pain bloomed in my chest. I ignored it because he was right. I was still his Acquisition, his plaything. He was still my captor. I dropped the rug and searched around for my clothes. He stared hard at my bare skin before looking away, his jaw tight.
The fire had mostly dried my clothes except for my jeans. I pulled them on anyway. He dressed, too, his movements quick and angry.
He led me through the front door.
Shadow stood on the front porch, his head almost brushing the rafters. He nickered as we emerged and nuzzled Vinemont’s hand. He was so gentle with the animal, obvious affection in his touches. Shadow responded, resting his head on Vinemont’s shoulder. They were a gorgeous set, dark and handsome.
Vinemont led him down the steps and into the wet grass. I followed, and Vinemont helped me up before seating himself behind me.
“Come on, Shadow, let’s go home.”
We rode in silence. A cold breeze had kicked up in the wake of the storm. Winter wouldn’t be far behind. I lay back into Vinemont for warmth, or so I told myself. He wrapped his arms around me, keeping at least some of the chill wind at bay. Shadow maintained an easy pace, none of us seeming to be in a hurry to return.
My thoughts couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the man at my back, his actions and words. I still wanted to believe something was different between us. That our stolen moments in the library and at the cottage meant something more than just sex.
I wondered what was going through his mind. Was he worrying just like I was? He was unreadable at best. I relaxed back into him more, snuggling against his hard chest. He pulled me in closer, barely holding the reins as Shadow leisurely walked home.
As we approached the stables, I remembered my own horse that had bolted.
“Gloria?”
“I’m sure she’s munching on some hay inside. She galloped past us in the thick of the downpour.”
The storm, my accident – Vinemont had seen me through all of it. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For…well, for saving me.”
He leaned away. “I didn’t. I haven’t.”
He pulled his arms from around me, letting the outside chill seep into my bones for the short distance before we trotted into the stables.
We skirted a sleek black car, still wet and slightly dinged. Gloria waited there, just as he’d said, grazing on a hay bale.
Vinemont dropped to the ground and then helped me down. He dug in his pocket and handed me his car key. “Take it back to the house. I need to get Gloria and Shadow settled. You need to warm up.”
“I can stay and—”
“No. Just go.” It was a dismissal. He turned his back and started unburdening Shadow.
Asshole. I opened the fancy car’s door and slid into the driver’s seat. I glanced down at the transmission. It was a stick. I hadn’t driven a stick in years and wasn’t much good at it to begin with. I smirked at Vinemont’s broad back. This would hurt him more than it hurt me. I pushed the button on the ignition and the engine purred to life.