The Widow Maker (Dark Vows Duet 2)

“Normal?” I scoff. “Since when has anything in our world been normal?”

His lips tighten and I can tell he’s trying not to smile. He offers me his hand, his tight gray shirt stretching across his muscular body. “Come on, Sunshine. I got something special ready for you.”

I only hesitate for a moment before accepting his outstretched hand. I get up and Heath smiles before putting a silk robe over my shoulders and tying the belt into a bow at the front. He leads me outside, out of the bedroom and downstairs where a breakfast has been laid out for us in the luxurious dining room. Since my return, I’ve been having my meals alone in my bedroom, unable to handle anyone’s company.

“I don’t want to push you too much,” Heath mutters against my hair. “If anything is too much, you are to tell me right away. Got it?”

I nod, managing a grateful smile. He pulls out my chair and we sit down to eat. I can’t manage more than a croissant, but Heath covers it in jam and hand-feeds me strawberries once I’m done. I can’t help but let my lips pull into a smile every so often, and this seems to please him. He pours me a coffee, with creamer and no sugar, just the way I like it. He drinks his black, never taking his eyes off me.

Once we finish eating, I dab my lips with a handkerchief and look at Heath, muttering, “Thank you for helping me. I’ll go back to the bedroom now.”

“No, not yet.”

“Why?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“I have another surprise for you,” he grins. “I arranged for the seamstress you’ve already met to come back, along with some newest designs from the designer showing rooms. I want you to pick out some clothes.”

The small joy of getting to pick my own clothes excites me, just like it did the first time we did this. “Okay. I can do that.”

“I want you to pick something special for tonight,” Heath adds as an after-thought. “You’re sleeping in my bed.”

Instantly, I stiffen up. I’m not ready to share a bed with him. I’m already crippled by the thought of being intimate with him again, and I never see myself breaking free of that feeling.

“Heath, I’d really prefer not to-“

“No excuses.” He shakes his head, giving me his sternest look that makes shivers go down my spine. “Go to the salon. Your team is already waiting. Pick anything you want.”

He leaves the dining room and I feel bile rising in my stomach. I rush to the powder room next door just in time, leaning over the toilet bowl and watching my breakfast go down the drain. Fuck. How am I going to face tonight? How am I going to allow Heath close to me again when I’m so afraid of his—or anyone’s—touch?

I head to the salon and distractedly greet the seamstress. As she shows me through hangers filled with stunning couture fashion, I’m anywhere but in that room with her.

Deep down, I’m well aware of what my deepest, darkest fear is.

I’m afraid once Heath realizes I’m damaged goods, he’ll no longer want me.

That’s what’s been haunting me this whole time—not just the painful reminder of what those men did to me, but also the fearful thoughts that Heath won’t want me anymore because of what they put me through.

I bite my lower lip and blindly point at one dress when the seamstress asks what I want to wear tonight. She nods with approval and tells me she’ll pick shoes and accessories to go with it and send it to my room. She also says I am to meet Heath for drinks in the salon at nine p.m.

I rush back to my bedroom and lean my back against the door with my heart pounding. I don’t have a lot of time, merely a few hours to make myself feel better about Heath turning me down. I decide to use every second of that time.

I take a long, relaxing soak in the tub and lather my skin in oil and lotion. I brush and dry my hair until it shines in the light, sparkling like diamonds. Then I carefully do my makeup, dragging out every stroke of my makeup brush because I know I can’t delay going to find Heath much longer.

The seamstress’ package arrives half an hour before nine. I slip out the gorgeous dress I picked, looking at it again and realizing just how daring it is.

It’s sage green, made of the finest mulberry silk. The dress is strappy, with several spaghetti straps tying in a halter collar behind the neck. The neckline is sweetheart-shaped, with expertly placed ruching that will highlight my bust. It reaches to the knee on one end while on the other, tight ruching exposes the thigh almost up to my waist.