Tempted by a Dangerous Man

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Tempted by a Dangerous Man

 
TEMPTED BY A DANGEROUS MAN

All Romance eBooks Edition

Copyright, Legal Notice and Disclaimer:

TEMPTED BY A DANGEROUS MAN
© 2014 by Cleo Peitsche. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only.

This book contains mature content and is solely for adults.
 

Cover Photo ©2014 by Pouch Pictures

Copyright, Legal Notice and Disclaimer:

TEMPTED BY A DANGEROUS MAN
© 2014 by Cleo Peitsche. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only.

This book contains mature content and is solely for adults.
 

Cover Photo ©2014 by Pouch Pictures

Dear Reader,

Thank you for purchasing this ebook. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I look forward to sharing more of my stories with you.

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Because I release new stories at a special price to thank my readers!

xoxo,

Cleo

Other Titles By Cleo

After Forever/Bisexual Billionaire Trilogy (Threesome Romance)

Careless

Hopeless

Fearless

Office Toy Series (BDSM Gang Bang Romance)

Office Toy

Client Satisfaction

Company Vacation

Flex Time

Soft Skills

Executive Package

By a Dangerous Man (BDSM Erotic Romantic Suspense)

Trapped by a Dangerous Man

Wanted by a Dangerous Man

Saved by a Dangerous Man

Tempted by a Dangerous Man

Take Me Hard Series (BDSM Romance)

Ride Me Hard

Love Me Hard

Use Me Hard

Take Me Hard Compilation #1

Push Me Hard

Fantasy Playland Series (BDSM)

Sleeping Lady

Sleeping chez Sade

Wide Awake

Wide Open

His Kiss

Fantasy Playland Box Set

Mistress Moi Series (Femdom)

My Three Slaves

Cuckold Chuck

Faye-Faye and the Sadist

Bad Boyfriend Series (Femdom Romance)

Bad Boyfriend

Anthologies

Underground Erotica

Forty minutes on the road and I realized that the fuel gauge hovered near empty. At the next exit, I pulled Corbin’s hulking SUV off the highway and found an open gas station.

A shivering attendant came out of his little booth as I rolled up to the pump.

I cracked the window an inch. Cold air rushed inside like it, too, couldn’t bear another moment of winter. “Fill up,” I said, poking the gas card at him. “Check the windshield washer fluid, too. Please.” Being incognito wasn’t a reason to forget my manners.

The attendant’s gaze lingered a moment too long, and I struggled not to duck my head or act suspicious. I wondered what he saw. Not me. That was for sure.

Across a stretch of filthy snow, The Soups and Grains Kitchen seemed to still be open. “Be right back,” I told the attendant when he handed back the card. He surely didn’t care.
 

The light rain had turned back to sleet, slippery underfoot. I picked my way to the restaurant—better to be soaked and freezing than to break my arm. Inside, the fast food place smelled like stale bread and macadamia nuts. A sleepy-faced teenager leaned against the wall behind the register. She was chewing on something white that, when I came closer, turned out to be a spork. She didn’t seem thrilled to see me.

“You’re still serving?”

“Only until two,” she said, clearly hoping that rather than scarf down my food in the next fifteen minutes, I would go away.

Her bad luck; I was starving. “Then I’ll have the number six in a bread bowl, salad instead of fries, apple juice instead of soda. To go.” I almost pulled off my damp knit cap, but caught myself at the last moment. “Please.”
 

After paying, I hightailed it to the restroom. My breath hitched when I caught my reflection in the mirror.
 

One of my twin brother’s friends had told me that going blonde would bump my hotness score up from a 7 to a 7.5. Well, he was both right and wrong. I didn’t like it, felt silly, and it drained my confidence. That more than offset the va-va-voom factor, which I had to admit was considerable.

I carefully pulled off my cap and smoothed my palm over the wig. It felt strange to have gone from dark and curly to blonde and sleek, and whenever I touched my head, I felt like I’d been dropped into someone else’s body. I tucked a lock of synthetic hair behind my ear.
 

The new style took a few years off my age, too, making me look nineteen instead of my real age, twenty-four. Good thing I didn’t plan to buy alcohol, though heaven knew I could really use a drink.

~~~

Where did my story start? Long before the night that I tracked Corbin. Even before the day his wife died. It began when I was a foolish girl, desperately trying to win my aloof father’s affection, constantly taking risks in a doomed attempt to prove myself.

The beginning of the end, though, was much easier to identify: the night that I killed a man.

Maybe
killed
was too strong. But it had to be admitted… if not for me, he would be alive.
 

It was a distinction I struggled with.

~~~

That was a long night, me sitting in the corner of my former office while Corbin fixed my fuck-up. I was shut down, not functioning. The thoughts that did manage to form in my addled brain were the stuff of nightmares.

“Stay here,” Corbin said, his voice gruff with exhaustion. Like I was capable of going anywhere.

He hefted the nearly six feet of plastic-wrapped burden over his shoulder like it was nothing. “You’ll be fine.” He went out and didn’t return for an hour.

That was the worst time. There, alone, nothing keeping me from the black depths as I imagined Corbin getting pulled over, Corbin having to hurt someone to get away.
 

It was getting toward dawn by the time he returned to bundle me into his dark-tinted truck. I didn’t ask him what he’d done with the body, and he didn’t volunteer.

Something stirred in me, another fragment of self-preservation. “My car,” I said.

“Moved it. I took care of everything, baby. I’ll be monitoring the phone calls he receives. I’m on top of this like it’s a matter of national security. So don’t worry. Ok?”

I fell mute again, unable to answer even this simple question. Beneath my numbness, I vaguely wondered what Corbin was thinking. Corbin, who had once pronounced me incapable of killing someone, hadn’t asked me how the man had died. But maybe it had been obvious to him. After all, he was rather an expert in death.

Corbin pulled up in front of my apartment. “Give me your keys.” He went inside, reappearing moments later with the bag I had packed early the day before in anticipation of a sexy week together. Back when the biggest complications in my life were an assassin boyfriend, a jealous suitor determined to catch my boyfriend, and the unexpected loss of a job that, in my own sick way, I had loved.

“I know you won’t believe me, but you’ll feel better after you get some sleep.” Corbin rested his free hand on mine and squeezed gently. I flinched inwardly. He moved his hand away.

There was something I needed Corbin to say, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I stared out the window, seeing nothing, and I felt, over and over, the feel of the stranger’s arm under my fingers as I pushed him away. I wasn’t sure if I had shoved him or merely brushed him with my fingertips. Inexplicably, I remembered both.

Over an hour later, Corbin pulled up to the secluded mountain house where he had tended to me after my car accident months earlier. He turned off the truck, but neither of us moved to get out.

“Audrey. Look at me.”

He said it forcefully, and I snapped my gaze to his, an automatic reaction to his authority. He was the same as always—strong, masculine features, full lips, electric blue-green eyes, dark and tousled hair that curled at the ends—yet different. More frightening. The squareness of his stubble-darkened jaw suggested villain now, not superhero. It was a matter of perception, I knew, but I couldn’t shake it. Wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“You’re going to sleep. Afterward, you and I will have a long conversation, and I’m going to tell you some things.”

I shook my head. I no longer cared about his secrets, didn’t want to swap murder stories by the fireplace.
 

“Yes,” he said. “It’s past time.” He came around and opened my door, holding it wide as if sensing that I didn’t want to be touched. But when we went inside, he helped me out of my coat, took off my boots, somehow realizing I was incapable of that level of muscle coordination. I wondered how this compared for him…. undressing me now versus when he’d found me passed out in the road months ago.

Passing out sounded appealing at the moment.
 

Corbin came up the stairs with me, and when I fell into his large bed, he settled the covers over my shoulders before yanking the light-blocking curtains closed. Then he went out, shutting the door softly behind him.

When he returned, I bolted upright, confused. I was drenched, and my sweat-damp clothes clung to my body.

“It’s all right,” he soothed.
 

“What? Where?” I looked around wildly. Corbin’s bedroom. Solid, beautiful furniture. Rustic landscape paintings on the walls.
 

“You were screaming.”

I let myself drop back to the pillow. Hadn’t even realized I’d been asleep. The dream had vanished—a blessing, surely—but the night before… that became more vivid with each passing second, and a headache began to pound behind my eyes. “What time is it?” I mumbled.

“Lunch.”

Only then did I notice the aroma of fresh dough, garlic and herbs wafting through the open door. “Not hungry.” And I was sure I’d never be again.

“Take a shower, then come down.” His tone had turned hard. Not quite the dominating man I associated with the bedroom, but not far from it. And even though I didn’t want to do any of the things he’d prescribed, I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Not when I wouldn’t win in the end.

I kicked the damp sheets away.

Corbin followed me into the bathroom, turned the shower on. “You need help undressing?”

I shook my head.
 

He left, closing the door, and I peeled off my sweater, bra, jeans, underwear, socks, realizing for the first time that I reeked. It hadn’t been two days since I’d last showered, but I’d been busy. Jumping fences, scaling porches, breaking into buildings and otherwise sneaking around.

Tussling with a man, too.
Dead man.

Details rushed back. The man’s boots scraping the carpet. His mocking voice. His weight on my back. His hand yanking my hair. I touched my neck. The muscles were still sore.
 

That man had been alive. And now he wasn’t. It was… inconceivable. Just
gone.
 

The water had turned from warm to scalding, but I stood there, zoned out, my mind blank, until my skin was splotchy red. Dully, I adjusted the temperature. If I didn’t shower, Corbin would do it. No doubt about that. So I grabbed body wash, squirted it into my hand until it spilled out of my flat palm. I closed my hand into a fist, then reached for the shampoo. Working it into a lather seemed to take most of my energy, and I sank onto the bottom of the fiberglass tub, my knees pulled to my chest while water pelted my head.