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Liam planted his feet and folded his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She tensed, not liking the defiant gleam she caught in his eyes. “Your debt is paid. Time for you to leave.” Now, he would argue with her and storm from the house. Once he was gone, she could fall apart.Keep it together, Vivian.

As though he hadn’t heard her, he stomped across the room and sank into the chair where he’d spent hours watching over her and Dove.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, her quivering voice threatening to betray her apprehension.

Rather than answer, he lifted his heel and shucked off his boots.

Was he undressing?

“I’m ordering you to leave,” she tried again, voice cracking like a whip.

He shrugged, reached over his shoulders, grabbed the back of his shirt, and dragged it over his head. “Like you said, debt’s paid. I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

When he stood, she took an involuntary step back, eyeing his powerful frame. In the past, she’d taken every opportunity to admire his muscular chest and thick biceps. This wasn’t one of those times.

He smirked at her reaction. Voice hard and biting, he said, “Thought Mistress liked it when I stripped for her.”

When he stalked closer, she fisted the front of her robe. “Whatever it is you’re up to, know I won’t stand for it, Liam. You’ll only make an enemy of me.”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I can live with that.”

Wait. What was she doing? Behaving like a cowering rabbit? She was the Black Widow. It was time she took control of the situation.

Refusing to retreat another step, she stalked forward, saying in her most imperious voice, “Get your things and get out.”

In response, he pulled the belt from his jeans and shed his pants. Powerful chest bare, erection straining behind a pair of black boxer briefs, he stalked closer, still holding the belt.

“And if I don’t?” he asked, voice a low grumble. “Will you punish me?”

The sight of that belt in his hand shot a jolt of white-hot panic through her.Black Widow. I am the Black Widow.She spun, raced to her dressing table, and pulled a pearl-handled derringer from the drawer.

With the gun leveled at his chest, she commanded, “Get. Out.”

To her frustration, he didn’t even flinch. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

“Yes.” She heaved a shaky breath, licking her bottom lip. “I am.”

“You’re bluffing,” he growled. In a blur of speed, too fast for even her eyes to register, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the gun from her grip.

“No,” she screeched. Before she could twist free, he’d scooped her into his arms. Her world spun, and her back smacked the mattress. Liam loomed over the top of her, holding both of her wrists above her head in one hand.

Panic seized her, blowing all her self-defense training right out the window. She unleased a plague of curses on his head, thrashing in his grip. When that failed, it was Vivian Laurent, not the Black Widow, who cried out, “Pumpernickel. Liam, please. Pumpernickel.”

To her utter shock, he released her in an instant, tucked his arm beneath her, and rolled.

Again, her world spun. When it stopped, she found herself perched on top of him, hands planted on his chest, straddling his hips. Before she could even think of escaping, Liam clamped his hands over her thighs, locking her in place.

“What… What are you doing?” she panted, unbalanced in more ways than one with the abrupt change.

He glared up at her. “Whether you’re ready to cut me loose or not, I swore an oath. When this started, you demanded the same devotion I showed Alex. That means I don’t walk away when things get dangerous and when you need me most. No matter how stubborn you’re being. No matter how much sass you send my way. I’m giving you what you wanted. What I promised.”

She stared down at him, her carefully erected walls crumbling, the destruction not accomplished by blunt force but by his sincerity. “I… I don’t know what to say.” Liam had seen right through her performance to the heart of her. To the real Vivian Laurent. The vulnerable woman she hid from the world. Despite everything, he wasn’t leaving. For once, she wouldn’t have to face Alistair on her own. Relief washed over her, melting her tension-riddled body.

“Don’t say anything.” He pressed his belt into her hands. “Use me, Viv. As you did before.”

The feel of the leather in her palm made her pulse leap. Still, it would be foolish to let her desires take control of her actions. “You must be kidding.”