Evangeline felt like a fairy princess as she surveyed herself in the mirror, critically going over her makeup, how the dress fit, her hair that she’d pulled atop her head and had fashioned loose curls to fall gently down her neck.

Try as she might, she couldn’t find fault with her appearance. God only knew she’d spent enough time fussing over every single aspect of it.

Time to face the music. Memories of the last time she’d come into this club still had the power to shame her. Nothing had changed except her status as Drake’s woman. Did that suddenly make her above average? As the saying went back home, you can put lipstick on a pig, but you still end up with a pig.

Certainly the dress was to die for and cost more than the dress she’d chosen that night, but it wasn’t as though Evangeline had tried to walk into the club in a designer knockoff. She tried to look for any discernible difference that made her suddenly more worthy of being at Impulse, but she was at a loss.

But at least she didn’t have to worry about being thrown out, getting assaulted or Eddie showing up to ruin the evening. She’d already figured out that Drake hadn’t lied when he said he protected what was his.

A light shiver skittered over her body as Maddox’s words filtered through her mind. He’d been very serious when he’d told Evangeline that Eddie would never harm her or come within a mile of her. The look in Maddox’s eyes had been menacing and she absolutely believed him, but she didn’t want to dwell on the how he was so certain and to what lengths he’d gone to ensure such confidence when he’d assured her that Eddie would no longer pose a problem for her.

Drake owned a club, but she’d gleaned from words dropped here and there that Drake had multiple business interests. She wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to know what all he dealt in that he required the security detail he utilized and hired men who looked like they could snap a man’s neck with a mere look.

No, she didn’t want to know. Some things were better left unsaid, unknown. Maybe that made her a bad person. Unethical. Not to mention stupid and naïve. But all she wanted to focus on was whatever this thing between her and Drake was and seeing where it took them.

He’d been angry. No, angry was too harsh a word. Annoyed was perhaps a better description when she’d hesitated and appeared to question his authority after agreeing to obey his dictates and submit to him. And yet she’d been aroused by the authority so evident in his voice. Did it make her crazy? Had he managed to uncover a part of herself she hadn’t known existed—would’ve likely never have known if not for him? She simply couldn’t imagine responding to another man the way she’d come to life at his touch. Every single one of his men was incredibly hot in his own unique way, and yet she felt nothing more than appreciation for their sheer masculine beauty. They didn’t cause her to have extremely erotic fantasies.

Knowing she’d taken far too much time changing and arranging her hair and applying makeup and that Drake was probably annoyed—again—she gave herself one last once-over and smoothed her dress before taking a deep breath and slipping her heels on.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob as she gathered her courage to walk back into Drake’s office, praying he approved and would be pleased with her appearance.

Swallowing back a gulp and straightening her spine, thrusting her chin up so she at least gave the impression of poise and confidence, she opened the door and walked as calmly as she could toward Drake. But inside she was a seething mass of nerves.

As soon as the door opened and Drake came into view, his gaze locked on her and fire burned in his eyes. He was silent, but his look said it all. He took in every aspect of her appearance, his gaze making a slow perusal from head to toe that had her cheeks burning every bit as much as his eyes.

“You look magnificent,” he said in a low, husky, sexy-as-hell voice that made all her girly parts tighten and tingle. “My angel has transformed into quite the temptress. I’m tempted to change my plans for you for the evening and keep you here all to myself. I don’t like the idea of sharing such an enchantress with anyone. I’d much prefer to have you in my lap so I could lick and taste and touch you the entire night.”

She flushed with pleasure and delight at the sincerity in his voice and the . . . possessiveness. She’d never considered herself a woman who would be attracted to a man so forbiddingly possessive, but the idea that he considered her his and was overpossessive of what he now considered his called to a part of her previously undiscovered. She liked it. A lot. What woman wouldn’t like belonging to a man like Drake Donovan and being pampered, spoiled and cherished to such an extreme?

“The dress suits you. It was made for you, and those heels . . . I’m going to fuck you in nothing but those heels later. But babe, no dress, makeup or shoes can make a woman like you more beautiful than you already are. You shine, no matter what you have on, and especially when you have nothing on at all. There’s not a woman who exists who’d look as good as you do in that dress and those heels. It’s all you. Don’t ever forget that.”

There was no hint of anything but complete conviction in his words and in his expression. And God, the ownership she saw so clearly in his eyes made her knees wobble. The image of him fucking her in just her heels made her clit swell and pulse to the point of discomfort.

This was a man who could have any woman in the world, and yet he’d chosen her. She didn’t understand it. Couldn’t even fathom it. But at the moment she was caught up in a fairy tale and had no desire to question the fact that this gorgeous man thought she was beautiful and that he wanted her. Not another woman. Her. Evangeline Hawthorn. Just an ordinary girl. Nothing special about her and yet he made her feel wanted and special.

She closed the distance between them and leaned down so their lips hovered a mere breath away.

“I’m glad you approve,” she whispered.

And then she kissed him, uncaring of the fact that she’d have to reapply her lip gloss. Right now she had to kiss him. Had to show him what his words had meant to her.

She fed hungrily at his mouth, sucking at the tip of his tongue when his lips parted and then delving deeper so she could taste him, consume him.

A low growl rumbled from his throat, vibrating over her tongue, sending shivers dancing down her spine.

She slowly drew away, and he frowned as if he was in no way finished with her yet, but she wanted to drown in his gaze again and bask in the desire and approval in his dark eyes.

“Approve is hardly an apt description, Angel. I’m not sure whether you’re an angel or a demon in an angel’s guise. I’ve never been so affected by a mere kiss.”

“Me either,” she whispered.

He smiled then. “Tell me, Angel. Just how many men have you kissed?”

She flushed and looked away in embarrassment. He cupped her jaw and gently guided her gaze back to his.

“I didn’t ask to shame you. I’m hoping to hell that you’re going to tell me that you’ve only kissed one other man, because he sure as hell doesn’t count, which would make me the first. The first that means anything. Because the thought of that pleases me a hell of a lot and I don’t give a damn about your inexperience. I want to be the man to teach you pleasure and eroticism. I want, in time, for you to forget all about Eddie Ryker and believe that I was your first in all aspects of lovemaking.”

Her heart did funny things, momentarily robbing her of breath. Then she smiled, not knowing how devastating that smile was on the male population.

“Eddie who?” she asked lightly.

He growled and became the aggressor, kissing her until she was panting for breath.

“Now that is what I want to hear,” he said as he stroked his thumb over her swollen mouth.

“And for the record, Drake, you were the first,” she said softly. “What Eddie did could hardly constitute anything but a quick lay where he took his pleasure and gave me none. You are the only man to have ever given that to me.”

He looked extremely satisfied with her response. He loosened his hold on her and allowed her to step back, his gaze still drifting appreciatively over her body, giving her a decadent thrill. He really did like what he saw. There was no faking his response to her and it was such a heady sensation. Like she was having the most wonderful dream, one she never wanted to awaken from.

“Go and get comfortable,” he said. “The food will be up shortly and then afterward I’ll have two of my men escort you down. I want you to enjoy your night as you should have the first time you came to my club.”

She turned quickly before he could see the dismay on her face. She remembered all too well the reactions of the other patrons. Just because she was Drake’s woman now didn’t change who and what she was, and she would still be judged and deemed unworthy, no matter how Drake saw her.

“Evangeline.”

His voice halted her just as she was about to sink into one of the comfortable-looking armchairs that sat at an angle to his desk. She turned, her expression inquiring.

“It will be okay,” he said softly.

She briefly closed her eyes, determined not to ruin her makeup by allowing herself to get upset over that night all over again.

“You have no idea how horrible that night was for me, Drake. Before Eddie even made his appearance.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Explain what you mean.”

She sighed, wishing she’d just kept her thoughts to herself, and she damned her compulsion to blurt out the truth no matter how awkward or embarrassing. Nobody wanted to hear her train of thought, and yet she forever just vomited out the unvarnished truth.

“Evangeline?” he prompted.

Damn it, but he wasn’t going to drop it. She was already acquainted with the particular tone he’d just used when saying only one word. Her name. It wasn’t a request. It was an order and one she felt compelled to obey, despite her overt discomfort over rehashing the events of that night.

She let out another resigned sigh and reached deep within for strength and composure.

“As soon as I stepped out of the cab, people were judging me. The people in line. Even the damn bouncer dude, or whatever his title is. The guy who mans the door and either lets people in or tells them to get in line. But he didn’t even tell me to get in line. He told me to leave. And every single person in that long-ass line was smirking and looking at me like I was a moron for even trying to get into a place like Impulse. Then when I showed the guy who told me to leave my VIP pass, he looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon, and the people in line weren’t subtle about their outrage that someone like me was being allowed in while they were standing on the sidewalk waiting. They looked at me like I was some sort of bug. Others just outright laughed.”

She paused to take a break, surprised at the anger that still simmered over that whole humiliating experience.

“Once I got inside, it wasn’t any better. Everyone was staring at me like I was some alien who’d arrived in a UFO. They were smug, amused, snotty, and I felt like I was under a microscope. The only person who was nice to me was the bartender. He was sweet. And nice. He treated me like a normal person, like I was every bit as good and welcome as the others, while the rest of the people in the front bar treated me like I’d crashed a party I wasn’t invited to. It was horrible. I’d already decided to just leave. I was stupid for allowing my girlfriends to talk me into ever going, but then Eddie made his appearance with a woman Velcroed to his side whose look very clearly told me, I’m prettier than you, classier than you, better than you and I can satisfy my man, unlike you, who were a disaster in bed. And my stupid pride wouldn’t allow me to walk out because I didn’t want him to think I was ashamed or embarrassed to run into him. So I stood there, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. No such luck,” she muttered.

“There is no possible way for a man not to notice you, Angel. Unless he’s dead,” Drake said dryly. “You sell yourself far too short, but I’m going to work on that.”

She shuddered and continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “It was horrible. The entire night was just . . . horrible. And now I’m supposed to walk out there and endure it all over again? Pretend that night didn’t happen and everyone around me isn’t judging me, laughing at me and wondering how I even got past the gatekeeper in the first place?”

If she hadn’t been so raw from reliving that night all over again, the look on Drake’s face would have terrified her. He was coldly furious, his eyes flat and his jaw clenched so tight that it had to be painful.

“None of that will happen tonight,” he said in a soft voice that held a hint of menace. “All of my employees know your status and that you are to be given whatever you request and that you are to be treated with the utmost respect. My men will be close at all times, and rest assured, if anyone disrespects you in any way, they will be dealt with and it won’t be pretty. Furthermore, if anyone crosses the line with you or so much as looks at you wrong, I want to know about it immediately. I want your word, Evangeline. You will tell one of my men so they can notify me and the issue will be resolved swiftly. I will not tolerate any disrespect directed at you.”

“Okay,” she said in a shaky voice, having learned that Drake wanted words, not gestures or nods.

His voice gentled, as did his expression and his eyes. “I want you to have a good time tonight, Angel. I’m not such an asshole that I would set you up for embarrassment, nor would I ever put you in a position where you would be uncomfortable or awkward. I have a surprise planned for you and I think it’s one you will like and as such, I think you’ll forget all about the first time you came to Impulse.”

She sank into the sumptuous leather chair as she processed his cryptic statement and cast a curious glance his way.

He smiled. “I want you to have fun tonight, Angel. From all I’ve gathered you’ve not had much fun in your life. You’ve been too busy working and providing for others.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t help the smile or the warmth that suddenly invaded her chest at the sweet gesture.

“And speaking of which, I still need the name of your parents’ bank and their account number as well as the routing number. I’ll have my assistant call and get wiring instructions tomorrow morning. But first, I thought you’d like to call them and apprise them of the situation so the deposit doesn’t come as a surprise.”

Panic immediately replaced the euphoria she’d just experienced.

“Oh my God, Drake. What do I tell them? How do I suddenly explain a wire transfer that obviously didn’t come from me? What will they think? It will look suspicious, not to mention it will put all kinds of questions into their minds about me and what I’m doing or what I’ve done to warrant such a sudden influx of money.”

She could feel the heat invading her cheeks. Shame. How to explain Drake and her relationship with a man she’d known for just a few days?

“What if they think I’m a drug dealer or a prostitute?” she asked in horror.

In her tiny hometown, if someone suddenly came into money under mysterious circumstances, the gossip mill would be in full force, and that was the last thing she wanted for her parents. If it were only she who would suffer, she wouldn’t care. But she did care about how her parents were treated and what was said about them. And she did care what her parents thought of her.

“What am I exactly?” Evangeline whispered as she continued to stare at Drake in complete meltdown. “Your mistress? A paid companion?”

Then she stopped and buried her face in her hands, uncaring of the fact that she’d have to do a serious retouch of her makeup.

“This is not me,” she choked out. “This is not the person I am, letting someone else, let alone someone I barely know, step in and take care of my problems for me. I could take hating myself or even being ashamed, because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my mother and father, but I do care if they are disappointed or ashamed of me, because they would never want me to do anything that goes against the way I was brought up in order to help them.”

She expected anger, even fury etched into Drake’s features and sparking in his eyes when she finally summoned the courage to remove her hands from her face. But she saw none of those things. In that moment, an inexplicable bond formed between them. One of understanding. And pride.

Neither spoke, both aware of the connection, not on a physical level, but on an emotional level. They might live in completely different worlds, but things like pride and a sense of self-worth were universal, and in that area they were on common ground. Just two people with something in common. No financial or social divide. People. Just people. Experiencing and respecting things that had no barriers.

“Would you prefer I call them and explain, Angel?” he asked softly.

It was tempting. God, it was so tempting. She hated conflict, avoided it at all costs because it ate at her for days, even weeks, after the conflict had subsided. But she had to retain control over some part of her life, having lost every other aspect of it in her brief acquaintance with Drake. And she was many things, self-admittedly a coward and one who kept her head solidly buried in the sand, but she’d be forever shamed if she was too afraid to face the two most important people in her life.

“N-no. No,” she said more firmly the second time. She sucked in a deep breath. “This is something I have to do. I owe them an explanation, and it should come from me, not from a man who is a complete stranger to them. That is not who or what they raised me to be. Above all else, they taught me to take responsibility for my actions and never to hide behind others. I may hide from myself, but I will never be accused of hiding behind another person.”

Again there was a deep flare of respect in his eyes, making them appear deeper and darker than normal. And in that moment, she realized that Drake’s approval—his respect—meant a hell of a lot more than it should given the fact she barely knew the man.

“Did you remember to bring your new cell phone or do you need to use mine?” he asked mildly, as though she weren’t about to make a call that had the potential to send her into an epic meltdown.

“I brought it,” she said, even as she glanced hurriedly around the room, her befuddled mind trying to remember where she’d put her purse.

“If you’re looking for your handbag, you took it into the bathroom with you.”

She flashed him a grateful look and then surged upward before she lost her courage and all but ran into the bathroom, where her bag rested on the counter next to the sink. She fumbled for the phone, realizing she hadn’t entered her contacts into the new one. Not that she had many. In her present state, she would be doing well to punch in her parents’ number by memory.

She was sliding her fingers over the glossy surface of the touchscreen, frowning in concentration, when she walked back into Drake’s office. Returning to the chair she’d just abandoned, she sank into it as she lifted the phone to her ear.

Her gaze lifted and met Drake’s, and she felt a drowning sensation. Like they were magnetized and she was being pulled toward him and absorbed. Without thinking or rationale, she slipped the phone away from her ear and hit the button for the speakerphone option and then she got up, moving toward Drake. She set the phone faceup on his desk and would have stood beside it while she conversed with her parents, but just as her mother’s familiar voice came over the speaker, Drake caught her wrist and tugged her around the corner and into his lap. He then reached for the phone, sliding it so it was closer to Evangeline.

Suddenly she didn’t feel as nervous. Calm pervaded her frazzled nerves and she soaked in Drake’s strength and his show of support.

“Hi, Mama,” Evangeline said in a cheerful voice.

“Evangeline? Is that you? Did you lose your phone? I almost didn’t answer. I get so many of those annoying telemarketers and scams claiming I owe the IRS some obscene amount of money. It’s ridiculous, I tell you. When a person can’t even answer her own phone without being harassed by someone who can’t even pronounce the word penalty or taxes owed. But then I remembered it was your area code and well, what if something had happened to you and someone was trying to notify me? I’d feel awful if I ignored that call.”

Drake’s lips twitched in amusement and his eyes gleamed with mirth.

“I’m fine, Mama,” Evangeline said, hastening to reassure her mother before her imagination ran wild and she conjured all sorts of horrific things that had happened to her daughter.

Her mom had been convinced that Evangeline would be mugged, raped or murdered within the first week in such a sinful city. She and Evangeline’s father had pleaded with her not to move to New York, and they hadn’t wanted her so far away from them. To say they were extremely overprotective of Evangeline was an understatement.

She bit into her bottom lip, knowing that when she explained her situation her mother—and her father—would freak out and beg her to come home. Drake gave her a comforting squeeze and a nod of encouragement that was badly needed. In that moment she wanted to bury herself in his broad chest and just hold on tight.

“I have a new phone. The old one . . . uh, well, it crashed on me and I can’t be without means of communication.”

She winced at the white lie, because she never lied, and she didn’t like the feeling of dishonesty. Guilt swelled in her gut and she prayed for forgiveness for this one fib.

“Oh, of course. I’m glad you did the sensible thing and bought a new one right away,” her mother said. “It wouldn’t do at all for you to live in that big city and not have a way of calling for help. What if you got hurt? Or someone attacked you. Why, just the other day I read a news article about two women who were accosted in New York City. You can’t be too safe these days.”

Evangeline flinched, closing her eyes as the lie swelled and grew, because she hadn’t bought the phone. Drake had. So far Drake had bought everything. She sat in Drake’s lap and listened as her mother extolled the dangers of living in a city where one’s neighbors couldn’t be counted on and people would walk right by someone in need.

She had tried to explain to her mother the stereotype of New York and that in fact it was quite safe, even if Evangeline lived in a sketchy area. Or rather she used to. Yet one more thing she had to tell her mother. But her mother refused to believe that a city as large as New York could possibly be safe and had told Evangeline that she was a sweet and trusting soul and cautioned her on a regular basis not to let herself be misguided. Oh how misguided her mother would think she was presently, throwing caution to the wind and handing her life over to a man she’d known mere days.

Drake shook against her and she glanced sharply at him, wondering what was wrong, but she saw him silently laughing, amusement clearly showing on his features.

“Um, Mama, is Daddy close to you? Can you put him on too? I have some things to tell y’all.”

“Of course.”

There was a long pause as her mother seemed to digest Evangeline’s request, which wasn’t unusual, so Evangeline could only think there was something in her voice that her mother had picked up on.

“Honey, is everything all right?” her mother asked anxiously.

“Evangeline, how are you, baby?”

Her father’s raspy voice washed warmly over Evangeline’s ears, making her momentarily so homesick that she couldn’t breathe. Drake squeezed her and she sighed. Whether in person or over the telephone, she telegraphed her emotions like the freaking Jumbotron in Times Square.

“I’m fine, Daddy,” she said lightly. “The question is, how are you? How have you been feeling lately?”

“I get by just fine,” he said gruffly. “You’re worrying your mother, so you need to spit out whatever it is you want to tell us so she doesn’t get her feathers all in a ruffle.”

She couldn’t help but soften all over and smile. God, she missed them. More than anything she wanted to go home and see them, but the cost of an airline ticket was money she wouldn’t be able to give her parents and right now, they needed financial support more than they needed her to visit.

But then Drake was changing all of that. Maybe . . . She shook herself from that train of thought. Her parents might be taken care of, a fact she was grateful for, but Evangeline had no job now and no means of raising the amount of money needed to visit her family. She was truly dependent on Drake for everything, and her heart sank at the ramifications of that fact.

“I’m no longer waitressing at the pub,” Evangeline said, deciding to start with the more minor announcements and work her way up to the more shocking ones.

“Praise God,” her mother said fervently.

“Good,” her father said in a firm tone. “I never did like you in a place like that. A bar is no place for a good girl like you. I hated that you had to do it because I can’t provide for my own family anymore.”

Her heart ached at the pain in her dad’s voice. Didn’t he know that she’d do anything, anything at all, to give back all they’d given her when she was growing up?

Drake’s hand rubbed up and down her arm, pausing at her shoulder before resuming the idle motion. He was solidly absorbed in the conversation now, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I’ve also met someone,” Evangeline said softly.

As she spoke, she glanced up at Drake, pleading silently for him to understand the fabrication she was about to create. Her mother and father simply wouldn’t understand. The nature of Evangeline’s relationship with Drake would baffle them, and she had no doubt the both of them would be on the next flight . . . Wait, no, her father would make her mother drive all the way to New York because he’d be carrying his shotgun and he’d pepper Drake’s ass with buckshot for “dishonoring” his little girl.

“I work for him now,” she hedged. “It’s a good job. Fantastic salary. And benefits,” she added hastily for Drake’s hearing.

His eyes gleamed and his white teeth flashed. He looked so incredibly hot that she could feel her body jump-start and come to life. Her nipples puckered and strained outward and she wiggled uncomfortably on his lap in an effort to alleviate the sensitivity between her legs.

“Why, that’s wonderful, dear!” her mother gushed. “When do we get to meet him?”

Evangeline panicked, avoiding Drake’s gaze, because she wasn’t going to be presumptuous. Not when he, as he’d bluntly told her, called all the shots.

“Soon,” Evangeline said vaguely. “But there’s more. He didn’t like me working at the pub.”

Before she could continue, her father interrupted.

“Good. Sounds like a man with a good head on his shoulders and like someone who’ll look after my little girl. I’m glad he talked some sense into your head.”

Drake chuckled, covering the sound with his hand while Evangeline glared at him.

“When he insisted on knowing why I worked such long and late hours there, I told him that I was working to help my family.”

Her mother emitted a sound of distress and Evangeline closed her eyes, knowing how important her pride was to her. Something she and Evangeline’s father had passed on to her.

“He wants to help,” Evangeline continued, trying to cover the awkward moment. “He’s adamant that I no longer work there, and so he’s going to wire money into your account tomorrow. I wanted to call to let you know so you didn’t think it was a mistake or draw the wrong conclusion.”

Her mother gasped in surprise but recovered quickly. “Just how well do you know this man, Evangeline? Does he treat you well? You can always come home. You know that. We’ll get by. We always have.”

It was then that Drake surprised her and picked up the phone, turning off the speaker as he put the phone to his ear. Before she could demand he give the phone back to her, he began speaking to her mother.

“Mrs. Hawthorn, my name is Drake Donovan and I care a great deal for your daughter, and where she was working is a dangerous place.”

Evangeline launched a protest only to be immediately silenced by a firm squeeze from the arm surrounding her body.

“Not only that, the apartment building she lived in is not in a good neighborhood and is not well maintained. She lived on the seventh floor and the elevators haven’t worked in at least a year. Her locks were so flimsy a child could break in. I was not going to idly stand by and allow her to continue endangering herself when I am in a position to help in any way I can, and I intend to do just that. My first priority is Evangeline, and as you are her first priority, then you are important to me as well because I want her to be happy, but most of all I want her to be safe. She was working herself to the bone, exposed to men who would think nothing of hurting her, and that I will not allow under any circumstances. I understand your concerns. I share them. But rest assured, Evangeline will be perfectly safe under my protection and care, and I think we can all agree that if you are provided for financially, that will be one less burden she has to bear.”

There was a prolonged silence on Drake’s end as he intently listened to whatever her parents were saying, and she was squirming with frustration and impatience at being left out of a very important conversation concerning her! The longer she sat there, trapped by Drake’s hold, the angrier she grew until she was seething with it.

“She will be under my constant protection, and she will be residing with me from now on. She will be safe at all times and her happiness is of utmost importance to me, something I think the three of us share. I would not be much of a man if I did not do everything possible to alleviate Evangeline’s worry and stress, and part of that is ensuring that the people she loves most are provided for. In the past, she took on that task single-handedly. That’s going to change starting now. Now she has me. I will gladly provide you with all my contact numbers as well as the phone number of our residence, and you should have Evangeline’s new number now that she has called you. You are welcome to call at any time; however, if you should have any concerns and especially if you have need of anything, I would prefer you go through me, just so Evangeline is caused no unnecessary worry.”

Evangeline gave Drake a stricken look. Was he cutting off her communication with her parents? Was he restricting her access to them?

He hugged her to him and brushed a kiss across her brow as he listened to her parents’ response.

“Good,” he finally responded. “It would appear we are all in agreement in this matter.”

Evangeline felt the burn of helpless tears. Everyone but me. But the words remained unspoken, only echoing in her mind.

“Yes, sir, I completely understand, and in your position I would feel exactly the same, and I make you a promise. Evangeline will always be safe with me, and I’ll move heaven and earth to make her happy and not regret her decision to give me her trust.”

But she was already regretting it, no matter that it appeared her parents, in particular her father, had given their blessing on the whole messed-up situation. Because she felt the ends holding her together, her life, loosening and starting to unravel faster and faster and her control evaporating under Drake’s dominance. She wondered how she could possibly remain intact under someone as powerful and demanding as Drake, without becoming someone altogether different from who she was. Evangeline.

She might not have much, but she’d always known who she was and where she stood. Now Drake threatened everything. She was so shaken by what had just transpired, and perhaps she’d been too caught up in the whole Cinderella fairy tale that she hadn’t truly comprehended the magnitude of what she’d agreed to.

Or perhaps she’d known exactly what she was getting into and that secret part of herself that had reveled in Drake’s authority had asserted itself and reached out for something she’d been missing, an essential part of herself that would have been denied. She could resist and risk being unfulfilled, thus returning to her ordinary, predictable life. Or she could embrace the unknown but tantalizing life Drake was offering her and perhaps discover who she truly was and what the real Evangeline wanted.