Succumb to Me by Julia Keaton

under the
brief caress, tingled where he touched her, as though his fingers
vibrated with untapped energy. “It need not come to that. Whore is
such a harsh word. High born women are considered mistresses,” he
whispered against her ear, his hot breath teasing her neck,
producing deep shivers inside her.
     
    “Do I have your promise? Your oath that no
one will find out what we have done? This is for naught if my
reputation lies in ruins.” She faced him, discovered his mouth mere
inches from her own, his lips curled in a sultry smile. He was too
close, but he wouldn’t allow her escape. Not yet.
     
    “Upon my honor, such as it is. I do not wish
to give the gossipmongers something to talk about.” He
straightened, distancing himself until she could breathe again.
     
    Relief flooded her. “You’ll never have my
heart,” she said with confidence.
     
    She had to come out of this game ahead. To
give herself to him completely would mean complete disgrace, and
she couldn’t allow that to happen, no matter how much she might
secretly long for his possession. It was folly even to consider his
outrageous proposal, let alone give in to it, but she had no other
choice. He’d backed her into a corner. She could fight him, but
then she would lose. This was the only way she could win. And she
had no doubts who would be the victor.
     
    “Do not make promises you cannot keep.” At
her glare, he grinned darkly and said, “Now, our bargain. You must
promise to come to me, to submit to my demands for ... two weeks.
Afterwards, I will relinquish the painting to you and you need
never see me again. But, keep in mind that I will expect you to
stand by our bargain. Whatever I ask of you—anything I ask, you
will perform willingly.”
     
    It was the same length of time the papers had
twittered about his public set down. Any doubts she’d entertained
about the clarity of his memory were banished. He hadn’t forgotten
anything. She nodded, cautious, regretting the course taken
already. “I agree.”
     
    “Good. Now we will prove your sincerity.”
     
    Her heart stopped at the look he gave her ...
devouring, eager for the game to begin. “Now? We cannot, my mother
awaits and she will worry,” Winter said, suddenly breathless.
     
    She backed toward the door, toward freedom,
unwilling to take her eyes off him long enough to run. The
seriousness of her situation hadn’t quite caught up to her until
now. She hadn’t had time to accept her new position with him, and
her new reality hadn’t positioned itself in her mind.
     
    She was alone with him—he could do anything
he wanted, and she would be powerless to stop him. Only a thin
shred of honor stood in his way, and how much could she trust its
stretched limits when he’d been the one to force her into this
arrangement?
     
    He advanced on her, blocked her evasion when
she would have darted away, backed her up until she was pressed
firmly against the door and he’d crowded out all chance at flight.
He propped his arms against the door on either side of her head and
leaned forward, caging her. “She can wait a moment longer. ‘Tis
just a simple test....”
     
    A corner of his mouth hitched higher as he
studied her ... her dishabille ... her breathlessness ... and a
sardonic black brow raised in amusement at her agitation.
     
    “I do not think it wise....” She avoided his
mouth as he bent toward her, turning her face away. He stopped
before touching her cheek, smelled her flushed skin before pulling
back to regard her.
     
    “So … no honor among thieves? We have only
just agreed and already you renege on your promise. The agreement
was—willingly—otherwise we have no agreement and I summon a servant
to hang the painting in my gallery for all to see tonight at the
party.”
     
    She sighed, recognizing defeat and hating him
for it. “What would you have of me?” she said softly, afraid of the
answer.
     
    “Wet your lips.” His hungry gaze settled on
her