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My fists clenched, fury sweeping through me at his blatant disregard. “This is not okay, Declan!”
Before I could further argue, Avery’s surprised gasp made me flinch, her keen eyes falling on Declan. “Clover, why is Declan here?”
I opened my mouth, fumbling for a plausible explanation, but Declan was quicker. “Spent the night. Going to be a regular thing.”
Avery’s gaze shifted back and forth between us, confusion etched on her face. I forced a smile, attempting to mollify her. “He was just . . . leaving.”
“Sure, after breakfast,” he countered, settling at the table like he owned the place.
“And Avery,” he continued, a devilish grin plastered on his face, “Clover and I . . . we’re together now. Maybe even planning a wedding.”
Avery’s brow furrowed, her eyes darting between us, seeking clarification. “Is this . . . true?”
I vehemently denied it, my face burning. “No, Avery! Declan is . . . misunderstanding things.”
But Declan wasn’t fazed. “Admit it, Clover,” he chimed, his tone laced with a possessive dare. “We’re meant for each other.”
My temper flared. “Enough, Declan! Get out!”
He reclined comfortably in his chair, a smug grin curling his lips. “I’ll leave . . . once you confess you crave me just as much as I crave you.”
Avery, stuck in the crossfire, looked like she’d stumbled into a foreign film with no subtitles. I locked eyes with Declan, a silent plea for him to cut the act. The last thing I needed was for Avery to get sucked into this terrible whirlpool.
A pulse of uncertainty passed before I bit the bullet. “Say it and you’re out?” The only thought running through my mind was getting Declan out the door, away from Avery, even if it meant playing his dirty game.
His smirk was the edge of a blade, too close for comfort. “You’re my bride-to-be. Say it.”
Avery, thrown in the deep end, was struggling to swim. “Clover? What’s this all about? Why is he talking like that?”
I glanced at my sister, then back at Declan. Backed into a corner. Out of choices. “Alright, Declan. If it sends you packing and keeps Avery safe, I’ll . . . I’ll say I’m your . . . fiancée.” The words tasted like poison on my tongue.
Avery looked like she’d just been slapped with a cold fish, her mouth opening and closing in shock. But I shot her a look, a silent SOS.
Declan’s grin was the victory of a conqueror, reveling in his spoils. “That’s my girl,” he purred, giving the last word an extra twist of the knife. He rose from the table, stretching languidly, like a cat in the sun.
Sick as it made me, I’d given him what he wanted to keep Avery safe. This was just an act. A lie. I didn’t know this man. I wasn’t going to fuckingmarryhim.
Declan moved to me, like a shark closing in on its prey. His hands cradled my face, and before I could react, his lips claimed mine, marking his territory. The thunder of my heart was drowned out by the taste of me on his lips, a violent reminder of our earlier encounter.
His kiss was a declaration of power, a brutal dance of possession. He drew me in, his body a furnace that consumed my resistance. Despite everything, the pull was magnetic.
It was hard to keep up the fight when his tongue coaxed me open, inviting him in. I let him, surrendering to the wildfire of his kiss.
Beneath the raw passion was a sense of dread that hung over us like a guillotine, ready to fall. I couldn’t lose sight of the stakes.
When he finally pulled back, both of us gasping, his look was one of self-assured victory.
“You’re mine, Clover.” His voice was gravel, hard and sure. “Remember that.”
I found myself wishing he wouldn’t leave as he finally moved toward the exit.
It was a crazy thought, to want him to say.
My words kept denying him, but my body begged for more. My soul begged to be claimed and controlled.
Fucked up. I was so fucking fucked up. Fuck.
But my mind was a storm of turmoil. What had I done? How deep was I in Declan’s twisted game?
