Page 15

“Oui,mon coeur. Rules.”

Great, just when he was warming to the idea of being her bodyguard, now there were rules.

Vivian rosefrom her chair and moved to her dressing table, adding a bit of come-hither to her stride. The weight of Liam’s eyes heated her backside. During her years as a burlesque dancer, no male had ever watched her with such predatory focus. Not evenHim.When Liam was in the audience, it seemed she danced for a party of one. After the show, she’d mingle with the customers, extending her performance to the floor. Even back then, she’d played the part of the Black Widow, entangling her victims in her web, urging them to spend their money. Much to her manager’s delight.

It was only with Liam she’d failed to remain in character, revealing her true self.

Though their romance lasted but a handful of weeks, they’d shared several sultry nights of whiskey and revelry. It was Liam who’d taught her to play poker. To school her reactions and read the other players’ tells.

In her naivety, she’d thought they were destined to bemore.

Stupid, stupid girl.

She checked Liam’s reflection in the dressing table mirror. As she’d instructed, he’d remained shirtless. Oh, how she longed to trace the path of every ink stroke and scar.Vivian, you fool.She had no one to blame for this temptation but herself.She steeled her nerves, drawing a slow breath.

Showtime.

With his attention on her, she settled on the bench seat. Then she crossed her ankles, pointing her toes as though the uncomfortable position was a natural part of her evening toilette. Next, she touched her fingertips to the curve of her throat and slid her hand down her shoulder, caressing her arm until she reached the silver bangle on her wrist.

She registered Liam’s heavy-lidded eyes following the action.

It was in that moment—that moment between conscious choice and instinct—she almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Poor dear. Eventually, he’d succumb to her wiles, like all the rest.

Despite what others thought of her, she rarely took a man to her bed, even beforeHim.Many times, the Black Widow would hook her eager prey—then keep them there. Wriggling fish, hungry for a bit of her affection. It was a dangerous game, to be sure. She was ever conscious that the predators she toyed with could devour her in a second if she let down her guard. Liam would do the same if given a chance. Only to her, he was even more of a threat.

It was time she vanquished this ghost from her past.

“I’d hoped to discuss the details of our arrangement prior to your arrival, but due to the late hour, there wasn’t time.” Secretly, she’d known his pride would bring him to her door with minutes to spare and had planned accordingly.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice thick with arousal. “All ears.”

She’d little doubt he was listening to her with butonepart of his anatomy. Again, it wasn’t unplanned. Some men listened better with their cocks than their ears. In many ways, she preferred the simplicity. Men who listened with their cocks rather than their minds were predictable. She could work with predictable. It put her in a position of power.

“Rule Number One, no touching me, my Chosen or progeny, without my permission.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “Thinking you made that one pretty clear earlier.”

“I’m glad you were paying attention.” She unclasped the watch from her wrist. It was a gift from the mage in celebration of their third anniversary. He’d presented it to her at a dining table brimming with crystal, surrounded by their guests, society’s elite. Champagne bubbled in their glasses, and a string quartette played their favorite song.

It was the following morning that he’d struck her hard enough to break her jaw, claiming she’d looked at one of their guestslongingly.

Shehadlooked at that woman with longing. She’d envied the way the woman’s mate had gazed at her with such love in his eyes. Like he’d rip out his own heart and hand it to her if she but asked. Yes, she’d looked at her with great longing.To Alistair, Vivian was little more than a possession.

Still, today, she wore his gifts. Proudly. After all, she’d earned every one of them. Liam may have his scars. Vivian had her diamonds. Payment for the pain she’d suffered. She accepted them readily as her due. Every gemstone and bauble.

The reminder of that pain strengthened her resolve.

“Rule Number Two, no touching yourself.” She unclasped the diamond pendant from her nape and set it into the lumpy earthenware bowl. One of Dove’s many creations.

“Come again?”

She canted her head over her shoulder, saying softly, “No masturbating, Liam.”

The corner of his mouth quirked with arrogance. She imagined he figured there wouldn’t be a need, what with all the sex they would be having. Poor boy.