Dangerous Temptation (Dark Dream 1)

It was irritating and deeply unfair.

But I was used to it.

So, I didn’t argue with her even though I wanted to slam the door in the cold, arrogant face of the man at our door because I had that feeling. The kind you get in the base of your belly when you know something is wrong, the kind that raises the hairs on the back of your neck when a storm is an electric beat in the air minutes before it descends.

I shot one more glare at her latest conquest and stepped aside to let him into our home.

Into our lives.

The grin he shot me was a brief, brilliant flash of white teeth between firm lips. It was…triumphant. Mean. The smile of a marauder invited warmly into the village he intended to pillage.

A shiver bit vicious teeth into the base of my back and rattled my spine.

“Aida,” he said, shifting his focus from me to my mother, his entire face suffused with new warmth. “You look beautiful, but I do not know why I am surprised. You always take my breath away.”

I turned to watch him approach her, kissing her suavely on both cheeks, one tattooed hand light on her hip. The inked hands were such a contrast to his otherwise civilized veneer that I couldn’t keep my eyes off them, trying to discern the black ink patterns. The only image clear to me was the outline of an exquisite rose planted in the center of his left hand, the same hand that held a rose for my mother.

Aida blushed like a preteen girl at his praise. “You’re a dangerous man. If you aren’t careful, I’ll develop a complex.”

I snorted before I could curb my reaction, drawing their attention to me.

Aida frowned at me, then quickly affixed a smile to her face, addressing her boyfriend. “You brought me a rose?”

He lifted the single stem between them, twirling it between two fingers so that the lamplight caught the velvet petals and made them shine like blood.

“A perfect rose for a perfect woman.”

I covered my gag with a cough.

My mother didn’t buy it.

“Bianca, be a good girl and come take the rose from Tiernan. Put it in some water for me while I grab my coat,” she directed me as she moved away to gather her things.

I fought against the urge to roll my eyes and nearly lost the battle. Bitterness coated the back of my tongue as I trudged forward to take the rose.

From Tiernan.

Tiernan.

When I looked up the strange name later, I learned it meant lord.

Of course, it did.

He stared down his nose at me as imperiously as I extended my hand to take the flower. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t give it to me.

“Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said quietly, his voice a rough rasp of sound that my mother couldn’t hear over her delighted humming farther down the hallway. “This is the only time you’ll ever receive a present from me. You’ll need to look elsewhere to satisfy your daddy issues.”

I gasped so sharply the air pierced my throat like a knife. “You arrogant, conceited ass.”

He dipped low, his scent wafting over me in a cloud of dark, almost smoky fragrance. It conjured images of burning forests and ash falling from the sky like silver rain.

“You think I am arrogant because you know I am better than you and it hurts your pride. I am wealthier, more attractive, more powerful than you could ever dream of being. You think I am conceited because I refuse to hide behind false modesty.” He swooped even lower, a predatory bird descending for the kill. When he spoke, his breath was hot against my ear. “Don’t worry, little thing, I only devolve the more you get to know me. It’s too bad you won’t have that opportunity.”

I gaped at him as he pulled away, then jerked as he took my limply offered hand in his grasp and forcibly curled my fingers around the stem of the rose. Pain burst across my flesh. A hiss streamed through my clenched teeth.

He hadn’t dethorned the rose.

I stared at our joined hands, his deeply tanned skin bisected with deep black lines of script written in Latin. My own hand, small, almost totally consumed by the breadth of his grasp. Slowly, scarlet blood seeped between our fingers and rolled down my wrist.

My gaze snapped up to his.

He was smiling.

A thin, mocking expression more like a knife wound than a grin.

“Why are you like this?” I asked softly before I could help myself.

I was too shocked, too deeply impacted by the absurd contrast between his scarred beauty and his blatant cruelty to maintain my composure.

His white teeth winked at me as his mean smile widened briefly, then collapsed. “Because, Bianca Laney Belcante, no one is going to stop me.”