It feels like my feet are stuck in drying cement. I can move if I try hard enough, if I yank my feet off the floor with enough force.

But I don’t have the strength.

And it’s too late anyway.

Damon’s staring at me with one hand still on the door handle. His eyebrows are raised in surprise, and his eyes are widened.

Has his apartment always been this cold? It’s freezing. So cold I’m starting to shiver.

I should say something. Something about the temperature? About how he should probably crank his thermostat up? No, that’s stupid.

He knows, right? He probably does.

But maybe he doesn’t.

Right. Maybe I can try to deny it.

“I, uh, was looking for the bathroom.” I give Damon what I hope is a normal smile, but I don’t know if I’m pulling it off.

Damon stares at me sharply, the gears in his brain obviously turning as he tries to figure me out.

“So, uh, where is the bathroom?” I throw in something resembling laughter. Maybe that’s enough to break the strange atmosphere.

Damon says nothing, but he takes a step forward, closing in on me.

I raise my left hand and glance at my wrist to appear like I’m checking my watch. “Oh, you know what? I just remembered something. I have an appointment downtown. Supper. With an old friend. It’ll be quick. I’ll come back here right after.”

I should run—no, walk. Walk calmly into the living room, grab my bag, and leave this apartment.

But my feet still won’t move, and Damon’s only getting closer. He’s such a big guy, and this is such a narrow hallway that he only has to extend his hand to touch me, grab me, stop me from leaving.

I pull my foot off the floor and stumble backward. My back is against the wall.

Without saying anything, Damon plants his hands on the wall, caging me in.

Is he angry? He looks dangerous.

I’ve seen dangerous men—of course I have. But I’ve never been at the receiving end of whatever harm they can inflict on me.

My heart hammers in my throat, so hard I can’t even swallow. If I try to speak, I doubt any sound would come out.

“What did you hear?” he asks, pronouncing each syllable slowly. He’s in no rush. He’s completely in control here.

Shit.

What have I done?

I’ve put all the control in Damon’s hands. Nobody knows I’m here.

I knew this before I texted him from the airport. But what used to seem exciting now terrifies me.

“Nothing,” I squeak out as I stare at my boots—the pair I chose carefully before this “date” so I could wear a dress on the bike.

I put so much thought into my whole outfit. I hoped Damon would like seeing me in my favorite dress.

But now I’m realizing that it doesn’t matter. I could be wearing a sack for all he cares. All that matters to him is who my dad is.

“Bullshit.” Damon doesn’t raise his voice, but he speaks firmly. He knows he’s right.

I stare at the floor, afraid of what I’ll see if I look up. “It’s true. I just . . . wanted to pee,” I say lamely.

“So why did you stop right in front of my bedroom door?”

My heart is pounding so hard my body is shaking. I have no explanation for that. I can’t explain that away. What do I say?

Damon grabs my chin and raises my head like he did earlier when we were on the sofa. But it seemed like a sexy move before. Now, I’m scared out of my mind as I stare at the stubble along his sharp jawline.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, princess. That’s the polite thing to do, isn’t it?” Damon’s voice is steady.

But of course he’s not nervous. There’s no reason why he should be nervous. He’s probably done this a thousand times before to a thousand different people.

He is a dangerous man like my dad warned me. Why didn’t I listen to him?

“I said look at me.” Damon raises his voice.

I lift up my gaze, my heart racing, until I’m looking right into Damon’s dark eyes.

His lips curl up into a smirk as his fingers stroke my chin. “That’s it, princess. Now, tell me what you heard. And don’t even think about lying. I can see everything on your face.”

A million thoughts swirl in my mind, but none of them seems like the right thing to say right now.

“I . . . I don’t understand anything I heard. I swear.” If he won’t believe I didn’t hear anything, maybe he’ll let me off the hook if I convince him it doesn’t matter what I heard.

Damon chuckles. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, princess. Come on. You’re smarter than that. We both know it.”

I freeze as Damon leans closer.

“You know I’m not letting you go. It doesn’t matter what you heard. Even if you were deaf, it still wouldn’t matter one bit.” He levels his gaze at me. When he speaks again, his face is only inches away from mine.

I swallow. “I heard something about coke,” I admit. “But I don’t care, Damon. Sometimes, I hear my dad say things too. I’m good at looking the other way.”

Damon nods. “Good girl.”

I search his eyes for answers. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Nothing I’m not already doing,” he says.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Maybe.” Hunger flashes in Damon’s eyes. Something tells me if this man ends up hurting me, he’ll enjoy it. “Do you want me to hurt you, princess?”

I shake my head. “Of course not.”

Damon chuckles again. He moves his hand down and curls it around my neck. “On the contrary, princess . . . I get the feeling you’d want me to. You’d even beg me to. I can tell.”

What does that even mean? Why would I want that? Is he crazy?

“Are you going to let me go?” I ask.

“Sure. If your daddy cooperates.” Damon caresses my neck and the back of my head, his touch gentle but firm. He isn’t hurting me, but he’s making it known that he could easily overpower me if he has to.

“What do you want?” I ask, wondering how my dad will react when he realizes I’ve been lying to him. I’m not even supposed to be in San Francisco. I’m meant to be in a whole other country right now.

“Your dad owes me something, princess,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s too bad you have to get involved because you haven’t done anything to me. But this isn’t personal. I don’t have anything against you. In fact, I kind of like you . . . maybe a little too much.”

I gasp when Damon puts his lips on my neck and bites down, hard. The pain sends a shock of pleasure straight to my core. With shame, I realize I’m getting wet for Damon again.

Traitor. My own body is betraying me.

“You like that, don’t you, princess?” Damon asks, his hot breath falling on my sensitive skin as his free hand traces the curve of my hip.

I bite my bottom lip, stopping myself from moaning and making it clear that I do, in fact, like Damon . . . maybe a little too much.

“No,” I say.

“Liar.” Damon drags his lips across my neck and my collar bone, nibbling on my flesh as he goes.

I gather all my remaining strength. I have to make a point. Can’t just be a passive plaything in whatever sick game Damon’s playing.

I mean, how lame would it be to put my dad through trouble just because I’m desperate to give his enemy my V-card? He didn’t even have to kidnap me, for God’s sake. I went with him willingly.

“Damon. Please,” I say, my voice coming out more like a hoarse moan than a serious plea. I clear my throat. “It’s not too late now. You can stop this.

“On the phone. It sounded like there was trouble. It doesn’t have to go any further than this. You can let me go. My dad won’t know this ever happened. I’ll help you fix everything.”

Damon straightens his back and stands up to his full height, towering over me. Looking down at me arrogantly, he says, “You’re not leaving, princess. You’re too useful for me to let go just like that. The sooner you deal with that, the better.”

My heart races as Damon’s words register in my mind. He really can do whatever he wants to me. I’m in a criminal’s den, and I delivered myself to him.

As my eyes well up with tears, Damon strokes my hair gently.

“Shh . . . Don’t cry, princess,” he coaxes me. “It doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom. We were having fun before, weren’t we? You can’t leave, but you can choose to have fun. Learn to be zen and shit. Now, give me your phone.”