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“I think we can all forget how important that is.”
“Very true.”
“You’re the owner of The Vault.”
“I am,” he said, walking closer. “Francois Thibodeaux. You have me curious. Who are you?”
“No one important except I shouldn’t be here.”
“Everyone is important, especially a woman as beautiful as you are.”
This was going somewhere bad fast.
I was stunned how much I was affected by his voice, the deep sultry tone entirely different than I remembered. Granted, he’d treated me as a child even in my teenage years, likely using a different voice on purpose. While the edginess remained, I was also more aroused than I wanted to admit, my nipples fully aroused.
I dragged my tongue across my lower lip as he moved closer, trying to avoid breathing in his intoxicating scent. I dared lower my eyes, allowing myself a single glance in his direction. He was a beautiful man in every sense of the word. I hated how my body continued tingling, refusing to allow the desire to be locked down. Even trying to remind myself the man was the epitome of tall, dark, and evil wasn’t working, every nerve ending on fire.
I purposely shifted my gaze to the other end of the painting, confused as to why he was suddenly quiet. Or why he’d followed me in here.
Maybe because you are trespassing.
I closed my eyes, trying to think of something clever to say, a way to slip out before he got an up close and personal look at my face. “I’m sorry. As I said, I shouldn’t have come in here. I apologize. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my friends. This is a magical location though, the painting the most stunning piece I’ve ever seen.”
Every word was true, but I wasn’t planning on hanging around to hear his answer, quickly moving away without looking in the eyes.
Then he grabbed my wrist, yanking me back, the hard jerk forcing me against his chest. I planted my palm against it, able to feel his rapid heartbeat on the tips of my fingers. I dared not lift my head. However, he was determined to have me look him in the eyes. He slid his index finger under my chin, brushing it lightly back and forth before lifting my head, forcing our already heated gazes to lock.
“You’re not going anywhere until I allow you to,” he said with a darkness in his voice I’d never heard before.
And a rush of excitement tore through me.
CHAPTER 6
“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it… I can resist everything but temptation.”
—Oscar Wilde
Delaney
Temptation of the flesh.
That’s exactly what Francois was. To indulge in the fantasy in any way, shape, or form would be a sin. But oh, my God. The desire for the man was overwhelming.
Dear God. The man was serious, his fingers digging into my wrist as if to prove a point.
“But I don’t belong to you,” I hissed, trying to jerk my arm free. How long would it be before he realized who I was? It felt as if his fingers were also tightening around my throat.
The masterful man had told me years before that if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was liars. That was the day I’d learnedjust how dangerous he was, watching in a mixture of horror and awe when he’d broken a man’s arm with a single snap of his hand for lying to him.
I’d stood in the shadows, basking in his glorious roughness. But soon after, I’d been chastised by both Francois and my father for eavesdropping.
That had forever placed Francois in an entirely different category.
He narrowed his eyes until they were barely more than hooded slits. “That’s where you’re wrong. This is my club. My rules. My toys. You belong to me until I release you. If I decide to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” I tried to jerk my arm away again, hating how much my body was giving into the closeness, his rough touch and warmth seeping through every pore. His lips were ruby red and I imagined kissing them for hours on end, lost in the feeling of paradise. Was there such a thing in romance in life? I’d begun to think there was nothing but violence and lies. That was the core of the world I’d coveted for far too long.
Francois chuckled in such a way I could feel the vibrations all the way to my toes.
