Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,10

to hurt you.”

The dizziness was getting worse. She put her hand to her forehead.

“Oh, Melissa . . .” He sighed out her name. “Don’t you know better than to leave your glass unattended?”

She . . . she had . . . but just for a moment. One dance. And her friends had been at the bar, right next to her glass. Her roommate Jim had been there. Jim always looked out for her. The drink had been safe.

Hadn’t it?

Her knees started to buckle, but he was there to catch her.

“You put . . . something in my drink . . . ?” Now her nausea and dizziness made sense. He’d drugged her drink. Maybe roofied her. So scream, Melissa! A voice in her head cried out. Scream! People are right there.

She opened her mouth.

And felt the sharp prick of a knife beneath her chin.

I did see a knife, glinting in the dark.

“I’m not here to hurt you, sweetheart. I just want to make you happy.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“So don’t scream. Just relax. In a few more moments you’ll be far away, with me.”

Melissa didn’t want to be with him. She’d broken it off. They were done.

“Sorry!” She heard his voice boom out. She blinked and tried to see what was happening. “My girlfriend had a little too much to drink.” His arm was wrapped around her. “I’ll make sure she gets home okay.”

He was talking to someone else. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head. One of the bouncers from the club was walking toward them. She had a chance—­

The knife pricked her skin. Could the bouncer see it?

“Say a word to him,” he said softly, “and I will hurt you, so very badly.”

She didn’t speak.

“Don’t worry!” he called out to the bouncer. “I’ll take good care of my girl.”

She wasn’t his girl.

The bouncer’s footsteps shuffled away.

Her eyes began to drift closed. She couldn’t hold them open any longer.

“That was so good,” he said. “Now don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Just like I said. Such good care . . .”

WADE CLENCHED HIS hands into fists and fought to hold onto his control. They were in Victoria’s bedroom. He was near the bed. She was in the doorway.

Holy hell, this was happening. Victoria was about to be his. Finally.

She stared at him and then lifted her fingers and turned off the lights.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. His voice sounded rough and a bit ragged, but when a wet dream came to life, how else was he supposed to talk? “I want to see you.” All of you.

He heard the rustle of clothing, and, with the city skyline drifting through her bedroom blinds, he could just make out her sensual form as she pulled her shirt over her head. “You don’t want to see my scars,” Victoria said. “It’s better this way.”

Screw that. He knew she’d been attacked by that bastard with a knife while they were in Louisiana. And her scars—­they weren’t a turnoff. Nothing about her was. Not to him.

There was more faint rustling and then . . . then Victoria was walking toward him. He could hear the soft sound of her footfalls. When she touched him, when she pressed her body to his, he realized that she was totally naked.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she told him. “If this is going to work, you need to get naked.”

“Oh, it’s going to work,” he muttered. Provided my control stays in place. She had no idea just how badly he wanted her. He got that now. She’d understand soon enough.

But he didn’t strip. Not yet. Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders. Such smooth, soft skin, and then, slowly, his fingers skimmed down her body. Over her arms. Across to her breasts. He loved her breasts, so round and full. He could feel the nipples—­tight, aroused—­pushing against his fingers, and he had to tease them. Stroke them.

“Wade . . .”

And on down his fingers went as the two of them stood in the near-­dark. Over her stomach. Over the faint line of a scar that he could feel. His fingers lingered there, caressing softly, wishing that he could take away her pain.

“Don’t—­”

His fingers moved away at her sharp cry. He’d come back to her scars later. He’d show her that every single inch of her body was perfect to him.

Down, down his fingers went. Her legs were parted and his hand slid toward her sex. Soft. Hot. And when he thrust