Page 93 of On Edge

“I had a…breakdown.” Nausea has taken hold, and I want to hurl. “Dr Fogg has been helping me.”

“He’s been helping you?” Troy’s voice is dangerously soft. “With what?”

“Just my headaches.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He stalks closer, and I back up until the desk hits my spine. “You were going into that bathroom with him, and I heard enough. The morality clause. He came to check whether I’verespectedit.” His laugh is bitter. “So your father doesn’t come himself when I invite him, but sends his pet doctor to find evidence that I’ve violated his daughter. I mean, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“No! That’s not…” He floods my face. That’s precisely what my father was doing.

I stare at the floor. I’m still holding the razor, my fist curled around the handle like a talisman. But I’m shaking so hard I couldn’t even cut a slice of cake if I tried.

“Sage, look at me.”

His voice is like acid in my face, but I jerk my gaze up to meet his.

“Is this the game you’re playing?” His eyes search my face, wild and furious. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Taking notes every time I’ve touched you? Every moment I’ve gotten so damn close?”

I shake my head.

But he comes over and plants his hands on either side of me, caging me in. “Building a case against me withyourdoctor?” He cocks his head. “Just how close are you anyway? Is he the one you’re using to prove you’re not a virgin?”

My body suddenly feels hot. How dare he say these things to me when they aren’t true? How dare he think…

My hand grips the razor white-knuckle tight.

“No.”

“Then why were you in the bathroom with him?” His breathing is ragged. “Why let him put his hands all over you?” His voice drops. “Were you going to show him the lingerieIpaid for?”

“No! You’re twisting it! It was nothing like that. He was asking if you’dviolatedthe clause.”

“And what did you tell him?” His voice is soft, deadly. “That I’ve been a perfect gentleman? That I haven’t laid a finger on you?” Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. “Or did you tell him the truth?”

I stare at him, stomach in knots. “What truth?”

“That every time I touch you, you respond like a dog in heat.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “That you lean into me every chance you get.” His gaze lingers on my heaving chest and thendrags slowly down the rest of me. “Like now, you’re practically begging for it. And even though you say you despise me, I don’t see you running. You want me to violate that fucking clause as much as?—”

He stops abruptly.

When his eyes dart back up to mine, I almost drown in them. It’s like sinking into the lake, but instead of thrashing, panicking, I feel utterly lost.

The space between us is an electrical storm, and then he shoves me against the desk, his mouth slamming into mine. He tastes of whiskey and sin and all the dark things that have been on my mind all day and all night.

I don’t push him off me, not when his hand snatches in my hair and drags my head back, scraping his teeth over the pulse point in my neck. The wood digs into my spine, and I just…let out a moan.

My eyes shudder closed.

There are no words, just the sound of us both panting, and him sucking. Against my better judgment, I fist his hair. And wrap one of my legs around him.

He takes that as an invitation to hoist me up onto the desk, spreading my legs so he’s between them. Then he bites me on my collarbone, and my insides turn liquid.

One hand is tangled in my hair, holding the back of my neck, the other is under my dress, easing off my knickers.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he hisses in my ear.

I gasp when he shoves his fingers inside me. Pain meshed with pleasure spikes through me.

“Is that for me or him?”