Page 3 of A Love So Deadly (Kissed by Darkness #1)

Chapter

Three

Elliot

T he man’s drop dead gorgeous.

My heart’s fluttering. A bolt of electricity shoots through me as he grasps my hand in a firm shake, his touch lingering as our gazes meet.

He’s cool to the touch, but fire flares in his black eyes and I’m caught, unable to look away. Mouth full of dust, body throbbing, I try and find my equilibrium.

Never in all my life has a reaction to someone been so visceral.

The man, Lucian Vale, is the devil incarnate in an Italian suit made just for him. He’s edged with darkness, seething with wrong beneath the surface, and I can’t help but want to move closer, step into his circle of power, be devoured.

I pull my hand free and fight against stepping back.

Adrenaline rushes my veins, lights up my synapsis.

What the fuck was that?

Devoured?

He’s not any kind of monster except perhaps the human kind. The real kind. His gaze slides over me, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, as though he can read my thoughts.

Obviously, he can’t. No one can do that. But he might be able to read my face, so I keep it as benign as possible.

I need to be sweetness, light, someone who seems harmless. I gather myself, focus on my mission, and force a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet the face behind VMR.”

“You’re not what I expected,” he says.

A number of responses come to mind, and I can’t think of any that aren’t rippling with strong undercurrents. “Not a man?”

His dark gaze shifts over me, and again, I’m hit with the feeling he sees more than he should, like he can dip into the essence of me behind my surface, like he can taste my blood.

I shudder inwardly. I’ve seen dangerous people.

Goodlooking people. He trails dangerous like scent and it’s most devasting I bet, when someone’s close to him, like I am.

Combine that air with his dark hair, darker eyes and sensuous mouth, the cheekbones that need to grace a black and white magazine cover somewhere, and you’ve bottled this man.

Except I don’t think you have.

He’s that, and yet so much more.

Lucian Vale. Why haven’t I heard the name? Why haven’t I seen a million pictures of him? Does he have a team scrubbing the world clean of his presence on and in anything?

I make an immediate note to look him up and research him when I get home.

He hasn’t answered my question. I went with the most obvious because it’s a mistake I expect someone who gives off Lucian Vale’s timeless air to make. Only he didn’t. That was me. All me.

I’m right about one thing, though. He is timeless. Like part yesteryear and part now in a classic way. Maybe he’s just classic and rich.

But that’s boring and wrong, and I don’t think Lucian Vale’s boring.

Ever.

There are hidden depths behind the mask.

And again, the word timeless comes back to my head.

Timeless. Or old fashioned.

“Gender is immaterial.”

Normally I’d speak here, fill the space he leaves, but I don’t. There’s no invitation from him.

He’s a man who takes his time.

Confident. Settled. Controlled.

Timeless.

There’s that fucking word again. Timeless.

“You found all my ads.” His gaze shifts to my throat, and it makes my pulse flutter and pound. Almost like that artery is being licked, kissed. Sucked. “And even though you’re not remotely qualified, you applied to each of them and numbered them. Impressive.”

Lucian’s voice is rich like thick silk, flowing and warm, with something dark and delicious. Something dangerous.

With a dark, sharp edge.

That air of power, tightly leashed control about him, isn’t like any power I’ve seen. This isn’t the power of a CEO. It’s old, and otherworldly and if he turned it on me, I’d be dust.

Lucian Vale turns from me, breaking the spell, letting me breathe, and crosses the room. He pours a drink, then holds it out to me.

I’d be dust? What the…? I focus on the drink because the million questions and dissection can wait until I’m out of here. Until I get the job…

If…

No. I’m getting this job.

“Here.”

The drink’s amber, probably Scotch or something. Isn’t that what rich, powerful men drink? But he doesn’t pour one for himself, which makes me eye him suspiciously. However, I shake my head and smile. “No thanks. Drinking on the job or job interview isn’t a good idea.”

“And if I said it was? If I said you getting considered for the job meant you had to drink it. Would you?”

“Do I look stupid?” I stop, getting myself under control. I switch tones for something more along the lines of soft humor. “Like someone who’d take the equivalent of candy from strangers.”

“It’s called manners,” he says, “an offering in my house to you to break down stranger to known.”

“Drink my wine, eat my bread, and I have your soul.” The words are out before I can stop them.

Light flares in those dark eyes, turning them intensely midnight blue. “Like a witch to a fairytale princess?”

Startled by his leaning into my words, the big bad laying the trap for the innocent, I blurt, “More like the monster.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile.

He lets the silence between us thicken and grow in potency.

This isn’t empty space. It’s alive and I need to stop the unknown storm that brews in that space.

“The drink might be poisoned. Is that what you do, Mr. Vale?” I smile to show I’m in on the joke. But if there’s one, I don’t understand it. Everything’s hyper elevated and everything soaked in sensation. Even the colors in the room are more vibrant.

“Or maybe you have terrible powers and this is your lair?” I ask, pushing the note of teasing into my voice.

I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. It’s cool and dry in here, a marked difference to the rainy night outside. It’s that time of year in Tenebris, warmish, rainy, and my hair’s wild with it.

Wild with the cracking energy and awareness that thrives beneath the surface of his office.

Somehow, I resist the urge to smooth fingers over the curls. Yeah, I’m the definition of a stupid, na?ve fairytale princess. Innocent beauty to his glorious and sleek inner beast. Just hand me the girly dress, a tiara and a rescue me now sign. Christ.

But there are no fairy tale princesses, and the only monsters are human and not magical. Princes? They’re not riding about looking for maidens to rescue.

Sometimes the offer of a drink is just a drink.

And yet I can’t shake the feeling of I shouldn’t drink it. At all.

“My lair?” The dark velvet silk of his voice winds around me.

“Yes.”

“And I lure in delicate females and kill them with drinks?”

“You said it, not me.”

I wait for him to put the glass down or urge me to drink it. Or even offer to join me.

He doesn’t.

“It might be true,” he says. “But removing the body is always a pain.”

“You’re the head of VMR Media. I’m sure you have your ways.” I match my tone to his.

“We do. But it’s a pain, as I said.” He pauses, again his gaze moves over me like he’s hungry, like he’s measuring how much head start he should give me before chasing me down becomes interesting.

And it makes me shiver.

Makes me want.

Sends thrills tumbling through me.

My clit throbs.

That cold fire gaze that somehow burns moves over me again. “You’re not what I expected.”

“You thought I was a guy, right?” It’s what I asked originally, and it’s safe footing so I cling to it.

“Your name’s inconsequential. Unexpected as in you talk back.” Once more his gaze moves over me like he’s slowly sliding a hand up under my skirt. “I like complete subordination.”

My breath wraps around itself in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. There’s no missing his tone.

The sex and sensuality soaked in his words. The command.

My pussy clenches in pleasure and longing, as awareness shoots through me. Shit, he might be making me wet.

He’s that goodlooking.

That commanding.

That…weird.

Lucian Vale is like no man I’ve ever met before. If this was in a crowded room, I’d be drawn to him.

Aware of his every breath and move.

Is this what happened to Kayla?

But she never mentioned Vale. She mentioned a Vittoria, a Mikel. And she was down in the research rooms, running coffees, making sure things were in order for the stars. Their paths might never have crossed.

And if they did…

I snap back to reality.

If they did, it doesn’t matter.

I need this job. It’s the only way to poke around. He’s the CEO, so by working for him, I’d be able to go places in here I wouldn’t if I got another job in the organization.

Not that there were any others I was qualified for. I wasn’t qualified for this. Then again, there weren’t any others I could access and apply for, either.

Not with any hope a reply, anyway.

But I go back to his words, his needing complete subordination, something that isn’t natural to me.

Then again, maybe he’s testing me. And maybe I need to show him what I can bring to the table.

“I’m good at following orders, although complete subordination’s a stretch.”

“I see.”

“But the world has plenty of sycophants and yes-men. You don’t strike me as a man lacking in those. You also don’t strike me as a man who wants that. You want loyalty, someone you can trust. But loyalty’s about real truths, isn’t it? And I’ll always be honest.”

“I see,” he says again.

“I’m a quick learner, and I work hard, but no, I’m not someone who can give complete subordination,” I say, heart thumping hard. “But as I said, I’m honest and I’ll tell you the truth. I can think fast, problem solve, and organize.”

This time he doesn’t say ‘I see’. He doesn’t say anything at all. For the longest time.

“Are you available twenty-four seven?”

I stare at him, the question throwing me.

I’m about to push back for more on that, but they’d asked Kayla that, and about family. I’ve got a brother and parents in Arizona I don’t see as often as I should, but I don’t think I’ll tell Lucian that if he asks me.

Kayla was an orphan, grew up in the system, put herself through college where I met her, and they asked her about family ties. Seemingly, they liked her without those familial ties.