Page 27 of Temporary Vows

“What’s it to you? You expect me to actually believe you care?” I shouldn’t have said that. It’s a dig at the past. But I can’t take it back. And honestly, I don’t want to.

To my surprise, he smiles. It’s an eerie, menacing smile that throws me off balance, even though it suits him far too well.

He pushes to his feet and surprises me further by leaning down until he’s a breath away from my lips. He plants a finger on my chin, and I go still.

Our eyes lock, and the potent stare he gives me sends a flush of heat straight to my core.

“Careis a strong word, little lamb. Let’s just say I’m… interested, and you’re not as easy to ignore as you should be.”

My breath catches, and I struggle to tear my eyes away from his piercing blue gaze.

“In case things don’t work out, you know where to find me.” He points through the window at the surrounding skyscrapers. Vale Global is amongst them. “Till then, do yourself a favor and get some sleep.”

For a second, I just stare at him. The words don’t land all at once. When they finally hit, it feels like the floor shifts beneath my feet.

Did he just throw me a lifeline?

My pulse stutters as I try not to look as desperate as I feel.

I want to ask what he really means, what “find me” looks like. How much it would cost me.

But my pride knots my tongue.

Men like Dorian Vale don’t hand out charity. If I take his help, there will be a price.

There is always a price.

He pushes straight, smoothing out his jacket, then he grabs his laptop and gives me one last assessing stare, like he’s marking the moment. Then he turns and walks away, his footsteps quiet, leaving the faintest trace of his cologne and a storm in his wake.

I sit there frozen, my hands wrapped around the warm coffee cup like it’s the only solid thing left in my life.

I’m a breath away from Monday.

And now, one impossible option has just presented itself, glittering on the horizon, wearing a tailored suit and a wolf’s smile.

Chapter 7

Elodie

I’m in the customer bathroom at the coffeehouse, locked in a stall. My forehead is pressed to the door because I can’t hold myself up anymore.

I worked through most of the night again but managed to get three hours of sleep in my car. Three hours of terrible, shallow sleep.

First, the car was uncomfortable as hell. Then there was the constant gnawing paranoia of looking like a loiterer in the parking lot. I kept picturing one of the guards spotting me and thinking I was abusing my “employee” privileges. I suppose it’s ridiculous to worry myself over such a thing because that’s the least of my problems.

I’ve been running through my options.

Options.God, I actually have options now.

I could call Dorian. But my pride says no. And if I’m going with that, the question becomes uglier: if I’m not choosing him, then what am I choosing?

Nothing. No help. Whatever hell Marcus has in store for me if I stick around.

I blow out a ragged breath.

God. I can’t even go home.

The thought of walking into my apartment like I did the other night, only to find someone waiting inside, ready to teach me a lesson before Monday, turns my stomach so hard I taste bile. It’s a kind of fear I don’t know how to explain to anyone. It makes everything feel unsafe.