Pain blossomed within me, in a surge of bright red and tasting coppery like blood. I was smarter than this—I knew that this was just an act. He had to be as scared as I was, but he was being a coward about it, pushing me away instead of clinging tightly like I wanted to.
“You fucking bastard.” I stared at him, my body stiff with pain. Why was he doing this? Why now, once I had become addicted to him and in need of my next hit?
“No one has ever claimed any different. Now, if you please, I have a lot of work to catch up on. I hadn’t planned on taking such a long break this afternoon.” I stared as he deliberately turned toward his computer, seemingly ready to get back to work.
As he did, I caught the smallest of flickers in his eyes. It was there and gone in a flash, but it told me what I needed to know.
He wasn’t as unaffected as he was pretending to be. But the mere fact that he was acting like this when we were both in over our heads was more than I could take.
Slapping my hands on his desk, I leaned over, getting so close to his face that he had no choice but to look at me.
There was that flicker again, right in those licorice eyes, pushed away mechanically. I saw the slight shift in his body, the miniscule amount that he allowed himself to angle toward me.
He opened his mouth, presumably to say something else cruel. I didn’t think, I simply acted, pulling my hand back before letting it fly.
I slapped him across the left cheek so hard that my palm stung. To his credit he barely moved, certainly didn’t flinch as he assessed me with those cool eyes.
“Fuck you, Zach. Fuck you.” I straightened, daring him to say something, to do something, anything.
He blinked, then looked back down at his computer.
Turning on my heel, clutching the loose folds of his shirt to my chest, I left, slamming his office door behind me.
Read more of Devon and Zachariah’s tumultuous passion in
Part IV of SURRENDER TO TEMPTATION
TEMPTED TO ENTICE
Available from InterMix on January 22, 2013
Keep reading for a preview of Lauren Jameson’s
sizzling upcoming erotic romance
BLUSH
Available from NAL in May 2013
I don’t want to leave him. That isn’t good.
“I want to play a game of blackjack.” Oh, this sounds so lame. I’m sitting in a casino bar in Las Vegas. Every other person wants to play a game of blackjack. “I . . . I know how to play, but I’ve never done it in a casino.”
“Why haven’t you?” Alex’s voice isn’t derisive, nor does he seem anything but genuinely interested.
I squirm on the chair, my face heating as I do. My fingers fidget with the locket that I always wear. How can I explain that new things, any new things, terrify me? They didn’t always, but since . . . well. I don’t want to go there, can’t go there, not right now.
I moved to Paradise, Nevada, two years ago. I started seeing a new therapist two years ago, too—a clean break from my old therapist, who, while perfectly adequate, was a tie to my old life. Dr. Vapauta, my new doc, took great interest in my reluctance to try new things, and together we have constructed a list of activities that scare me, ones that I nevertheless want to attempt in order to conquer my fear.
This is number one: urging myself to enter a casino. Urging myself to have the courage to walk up to a table and play a game. Since I know how to play blackjack, this is the game that is on my list.
For the woman who will drive ten extra miles on empty simply to go to the same gas station, it is a huge step.
It doesn’t mean that this stranger will understand.
“I have a list.” My voice is defiant, and I swig the last of my hideously expensive wine, shoring up my courage. “A list of things I need to do. Like a bucket list, I guess, except . . . it’s things that scare me. This is on it.” I dig my fingernails into my knees, watch the small crescent moons of white that appear on the skin that is bared beneath the hem of my flowered skirt. I wait for him to snort with laughter, or to wonder aloud why a game of blackjack would scare me.
Alex doesn’t speak. When I dare to glance up, he has pursed his lips, regarding me as if I am an exotic animal that he has come upon unexpectedly.
“Then you should do it.” For reasons I don’t quite understand, my spirits lift at his words. “And don’t be afraid. Most of the people at the tables are there only because of greed. You aren’t, and that will give you an edge.”
I shiver at the sincerity shining in those blue eyes, looking down at my intertwined fingers hastily. I feel like this man can read me—can see right into my soul—and it makes me uncomfortable.
***
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Lauren Jameson is a writer, yoga newbie, knitting aficionado, and animal lover who lives in the shadows of the great Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. She’s older than she looks—really—and younger than she feels—most of the time. She has published with Avon and Harlequin as Lauren Hawkeye and writes contemporary erotic romance for NAL. Visit her online at www.laurenjameson.com and www.laurenhawkeye.com.
Surrender to Temptation
Part I: Tempted to Submit
Part II: Tempted to Rebel
Part III: Tempted to Obey
Surrender to Temptation Part III: Tempted to Obey Page 6