Page 18 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter sixteen

Peyton

I n the days that follow our visit to Hunter’s law firm, the good mood that Mavik was in after seeing his mother quickly vanishes. He never talked about what happened with his uncle’s will or why Hunter considered it an emergency in the first place.

Gone are the flirty touches and tender looks Mavik usually gives me.

They’ve been replaced with his usual cocky, cold demeanor.

However, once in a while, I catch him staring at me.

He gives me this strange look and opens his mouth as if he wants to ask something before seemingly changing his mind and snapping it shut.

It’s Monday morning, just a few minutes before I need to start prepping our material for our meeting with Daniel Sinclair tomorrow. Since I arrived, Mavik has been busy on the phone and in his office, barely acknowledging me when I placed his coffee on his desk.

“Fuck!” Mavik shouts, followed by a loud crash.

Rushing into his office, I’m just in time to hear Hunter on speaker. “Don’t blame me, Mavik. I didn’t tell your idiot cousin about Uncle Mick’s will.”

“I know you didn’t! But fuck,” Mavik growls. “Now that he does know, it puts a time limit on things.”

“Fix things, Mavik. You won’t know the answer until you ask.”

Mavik picks up the receiver and slams it down, effectively hanging up on his friend.

He runs a hand through his messy hair. It’s clear he’s been tugging at it.

There are barely there bags under his eyes, but it’s noticeable to someone like me.

Mavik is stressed, and he hasn’t been sleeping. Did he sleep at all this weekend?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap. It isn’t like Mavik to lose his composure, especially the day before an important client meeting.

Mavik’s head whips up.

I walk over to his side right as he stands.

I reach for his tie automatically and start fixing it for him.

“You need to snap out of it. The Sinclair meeting is tomorrow, and you gave me material I’ve never seen before.

We need to prepare. You’ve been wanting to meet with the man forever.

I know you don’t want to screw this up.”

I found it strange that Mr. Sinclair insisted I be there too, but some clients are like that for whatever reason. Sometimes it’s as simple as wanting to see how the hotshots treat their employees.

Mavik lets out a loud huff of frustration. “You’re right.” He scrubs a hand through his dark hair again. He tugs my hands away and finishes tying his tie himself. “Fuck, you’re right. I need to get myself together. It’s just—”

I place my hand over his. “It’s just what?”

He studies the way my palm rests on top of his before his brown eyes trail over to mine. “What I show you stays between us, understand?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course. I signed a damn NDA before taking this job, remember?

“Right,” he says, looking oddly hurt. He pulls his hand away, and suddenly I’m wishing I’d kept my damn mouth shut about the NDA. It isn’t the only reason I wouldn’t talk.

“Plus,” I say in a softer tone. “You can trust me with anything; you know that. And there’s nothing you can do or say that’ll make me change my mind about you. There’s no one out there who will get me to spill your secrets. Ever .”

A small smile flickers across his lips as his face softens.

“Loyal to a fault,” he says, caressing a light finger across my cheekbone, the pad of his thumb landing on my bottom lip.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and my cock jerks.

My mouth falls open as I stare into his possessive gaze.

Mavik Blackwood just touched me. He never touches me like this.

Even those quick hugs and shoulder squeezes weren’t quite like this. This was more…intimate.

As if realizing what he just did, he steps back, putting some distance between us before reaching for a folder on his desk. He pulls out a pretty envelope with a wax seal and hands it to me.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a letter from my Uncle Mick. As you know, he was the former owner of Blackwood Investments. He left this for me with his will. Go on, read it.”

I open the envelope with shaky hands. I’m touched that he would let me read something so personal, but part of me wants him to just give me the CliffsNotes version.

If the contents of this letter are what have him on edge, why the fuck would I want to read it?

I tug the decorative stationery from the envelope and unfold it.

Peering down, my eyes eat up the words faster and faster as I read. My mouth falls open, and when I get to a particular line, I gasp.

I know you’ve had your eye on someone for quite a while now.

Jealousy swirls in my stomach. I glance up at him briefly before diving back into the letter. I don’t want to know who Mavik has had his eye on.

Marry him, son. Or marry someone else who will make you happy.

I don’t want to know who the ‘him’ is. But fuck that. I can make him happy. I know I can if he’d let me.

With shaky fingers, I refold the letter and try to place it back in the envelope unseeingly. I fumble a few times before Mavik finally takes it from my grasp and places it back on his desk.

“Mavik,” I whisper. “What did I just read?” I think I understand, but I need to hear it from him.

He goes on to explain the breakdown of his uncle’s will and his demands.

He tells me about his cousins and how they’ve been trying to get some of their uncle’s stock since he got sick.

He explains how he could lose his company if he doesn’t marry someone and stay married for at least a year.

All the while, I half listen with all my blood rushing to my head. Then, something he says just…clicks.

Time seems to speed up, and I’m brought back to the present. A surge of energy zips through me. “Choose me!” I blurt.

That scary-as-fuck, intense look bores into me, but I don’t care. Or hell, maybe that intoxicating stare is what encourages me to explain.

“I’ll do it,” I say, nobly volunteering as tribute. Fuck me, am I really saying this out loud? Hell yes, I am. “I’ll do it,” I repeat.

Marrying the man of my dreams? Sign me the hell up. I’ve watched enough rom-coms and read enough romance to know that fake-marrying your boss is the fastest way to falling in love.

Unfortunately for me, the crestfallen look on Mavik’s face says wedding bells won’t be in our future anytime soon.

“I can’t. We can’t.” His gaze somehow grows more intense. Dark. Almost angry.

I prop a palm on my hip. “And why the fuck not?” I ask, my bratty side rearing its head and wanting attention.

He lets out a deep sigh. “We just can’t, okay, Peyton? Just let it go,” he says as he steps away, putting more distance between us, and gives me his back.

Oh, hell no. I grasp his forearm and force him to turn around. He barely moves. Holy fuck, he’s strong. I step in front of him instead. “I don’t accept that.” I’d stomp my foot if I didn’t want to make a damn fool out of myself.

His lips twitch, but just as quickly, the almost-smile falls away.

“I said, I don’t accept that,” I shove at his chest. “I want a real answer.”

He shoves me hard against the wall and growls like a damn animal.

I cry out, not from pain but from shock.

His eyes dilate as he glares down at me.

He’s about to reject me—again. The hard press of his body is crushing.

Intoxicating. I’m trapped between the cold wall and the hard plains of his muscles.

I can’t move, and I don’t want to. I practically melt, submitting to his overpowering dominance.

My cheeks burn with some strange mix of arousal and humiliation.

“Because, Peyton. While you are the light, my soul is pure black. You have no fucking idea of the darkness that grows inside of me,” he grits out.

Suddenly, he slams his palm on the wall next to my head, causing me to jump.

My body vibrates with fear and arousal. I place a trembling hand on his chest, where I can feel his heartbeat galloping out of control.

His face is so close to mine. And then I see it; there’s something there, maybe it’s that darkness he’s trying to describe. Didn’t his uncle hint at that darkness, too? I lean in closer. His breaths are labored, matching mine. I want to close the distance between us, but I’m scared.

Scared of him? Maybe? But the terrifying truth is that there’s a dark part of me I keep hidden as well.

It swirls deep inside, wanting attention.

It revels in that fear. Craves it. I crave it.

Mavik might have something dark inside his soul, but even so, I know I can trust him.

It’s why my body needs his. I can relinquish control and revel in my fear.

All the while knowing that I’m truly safe with Mavik, no matter what.

Mavik wraps his long fingers over mine. At first, I think he’s holding my hand, keeping me there, or giving me comfort, but he pries my fingers off his arm. Disappointment fills me.

He pushes away from my body. “You deserve so much more, little light.”

My toes curl at the nickname.

With those parting words, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him, but not before I can see just how affected his body was to be pressed against mine.

I peel myself off the wall. Why the hell is he fighting this so hard? And what was with all that cryptic symbolism?

‘My soul is pure black.’

I scoff. Well, fine.

That’s just fine, Mavik Blackwood. Darkness has always tempted me.