Evangeline made a turtle look like a speed demon as she navigated the hallway to the now-closed club where her apparent meeting with Drake was to take place. Maddox simmered with impatience, but he reined it in and walked with her, one hand at the small of her back, the other stretched across his midsection to grasp her trembling arm. He likely thought if he didn’t have a firm grasp on her, she’d face-plant, and, well, he wasn’t wrong.

When they’d pulled into a reserved parking space at the rear of the club she’d sat rigid in her seat like a statue, her jaw clenched tight to prevent her teeth from clattering. The club? Really? At this hour? Had he been waiting for her here all night only growing more annoyed when she didn’t make an appearance? Or did he simply work late and tend to business matters while his employees announced last call and cleared the place so cleanup could commence?

Maddox had walked around to her side and opened the door and then stood there several long minutes before sighing and looking very much like he wanted to throttle her. Finally, he’d taken matters into his own hands and simply reached in, slid one arm beneath her thighs and the other around her back and plucked her from the seat and up against his chest as effortlessly as if she were an infant.

That had put a stop to her stillness and refusal to move. She smacked and shoved at his chest, demanding he put her down. She’d be damned if he had to carry her into the club like an unwilling captive. Even if that was precisely what she was.

Only when they’d gotten just inside the doorway had Maddox relinquished his hold on her and carefully set her back on her feet, both hands grasping her shoulders until she was steady enough to walk.

More than once during the interminable walk to the elevator she heard him mutter something about “damn shoes” and “you’re going to break your damn neck.”

By the time they were in the elevator and it began its ascent to Drake’s office, Evangeline’s chest was so tight she couldn’t breathe. When she unsuccessfully tried to gasp and suck air into her starving lungs, panic completely took over and she began to shake violently.

Beside her, Maddox swore viciously and then firmly grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him. He lowered his head until their eyes met, and his gaze was fierce.

“Breathe, damn it. Don’t you dare pass out on me. Pull it together. You’ve stood up to your asshole ex, me and Drake and didn’t back down despite your repeated claims that we could snap you like a twig, so don’t go soft on me now, for fuck’s sake. You have far too much pride to walk into Drake’s office like this.”

Then he broke off, shaking his head.

“Forget that. You have too much pride for me to have to carry you into Drake’s office, which is precisely what’s going to happen if you don’t snap out of it and calm down.”

His voice was whiplike and had the same effect as if someone had cracked one over her skin. Suddenly heat bloomed in her cold cheeks and her throat relaxed, air rushing into and filling her lungs.

She was weak with relief and fast approaching her wall after being carried this far by fear-induced adrenaline. Her knees wobbled and threatened to buckle, but she shoved off Maddox’s attempts to steady her, opting instead to distance herself from him and prop herself up against the far side of the elevator.

How freaking long did it take for the damn thing to rise what couldn’t be more than a few floors? But then her meltdown and Maddox’s sharp reprimand had lasted mere seconds, though it felt like an eternity.

She was feeling so claustrophobic and humiliated by her ridiculous display of cowardice that she sighed in relief when the elevator halted and the doors swooshed open. And then she realized that she would now be facing a man far more scary and intimidating than Maddox, and after what little Maddox had divulged about his boss, Evangeline knew that Drake would not be pleased to have been kept waiting for over nine hours now.

Maddox had herded her from her position in the back of the elevator, but when she reached the threshold of Drake’s office, she halted abruptly and tried to take a step back, only to collide with Maddox’s massive chest. It took every ounce of pride and discipline she possessed not to groan out loud or do something even more humiliating like burst into tears or have another epic meltdown and pass out at Maddox’s feet.

She took a steadying breath and then steeled herself, her spine going rigid. Her chin thrust upward in defiance and she searched angrily for Drake’s location, determined not to be cowed when their gazes eventually found each other.

She reached back instinctively, before she could stop herself, seeking the reassurance of Maddox’s body with her hand and found . . . air. Damn it! The man was a veritable escape artist. This was the second time he’d “escorted” her up to Drake’s lair and then disappeared into thin air. She hadn’t even registered the elevator doors closing. And now she was trapped with a man Maddox had flat-out told her did not like to be kept waiting and expected absolute compliance with his every order.

Well, hell. She closed her eyes, giving up on the idea of boldly seeking out Drake—wherever he was lurking—and refusing to back down from his stare.

•   •   •

“You’re late,” Drake said, allowing his displeasure to sound in his statement.

But even as he issued the admonishment, he took in her appearance and the fact that she was obviously exhausted and dead on her feet. She could barely remain upright in those ridiculous heels and looked like she’d take a header at any second.

He knew well why she hadn’t been at her apartment at seven as he’d instructed. She’d gone to work in a damn pub and been on her feet for hours in shoes that amounted to an accident waiting to happen. She was pale, and fatigue was etched in every facet of her face.

With a muttered curse, he stalked to her, gently took her arm and then promptly guided her to the couch. He planted both hands on her shoulders and pushed her downward so she had no choice but to sit.

“Lie back and relax,” he said tersely.

Then he went to one bended knee and removed her shoes, swearing again when he saw how swollen her feet were. She looked utterly bewildered, her eyes wide as though this were the last thing she’d expected. But then he hadn’t exactly done much to convince her he wasn’t a heartless, cold bastard, some kind of monster who’d pounce on her at the first opportunity.

Without a word, he began to massage one foot, taking care not to hurt her or cause her discomfort.

She emitted a soft moan and for a moment, her eyes closed and she sagged, some of the tension evaporating from her body. He worked on the first foot, covering every inch and paying special attention to her tender arches. Then he turned his focus to the other, giving it equal care.

He watched her intently, absorbing every reaction and the sheer pleasure reflected on her face. She was so fucking responsive. Absolutely honest, no faking. She was genuine to her toes and so damn beautiful his balls ached.

Last night had given him a hard-on he’d carried the entire night, making sleep impossible because every time he closed his eyes, he tasted her, smelled her, could hear her soft cries of ecstasy, and he replayed having her spread out before him on his desk like a goddess being offered up as the most priceless of treasures. Certainly nothing money could buy and nothing a man with his power could produce on command, and that was something rare and precious indeed. Something worth a thing he wasn’t used to demonstrating. Patience.

It had taken every ounce of his restraint not to tear his pants down and plunge so deeply into her that she would feel him to her soul. He still wondered why he hadn’t. Only the nagging warning in the back of his mind telling him he had to tread carefully with her and not push her too hard, too fast, had kept him from slaking his hunger without regard for whether he scared the holy hell out of her. She’d been freaked out enough by him going down on her. It was equally obvious that her only lover—her dickhead ex—hadn’t given her anything. He’d just taken. Her ex had let go of something most men would kill for, but Drake didn’t spare an ounce of pity for the idiot. His loss was Drake’s gain, and he intended to move in, take over and make damn sure that from now on she was in his bed, under his command. And by God, she’d never go without anything in his power to provide her.

He let his hands slide leisurely from her foot and she murmured a light sound of protest.

“Why the hell are you working yourself to death in that shithole bar every night?” he asked bluntly.

She made a huffing noise and glared at him.

“You could at least continue the fabulous foot massage if you’re going to interrogate me,” she said in a disgruntled voice.

He nearly laughed before he caught himself. He didn’t laugh often, and when he did, it wasn’t usually out of amusement. People tended to get nervous when he laughed. Nor did he smile. But he was amused by her show of bravado. She was intimidated, and uncertainty was evident in her body language, but she was damned if she was going to show it. Good. The last thing he wanted was a meek doormat. Yes, he demanded obedience and submission, but that didn’t equate to his woman being a mindless robot, programmed to do his bidding with no thoughts or opinions of her own. He liked her fire. And her pride. He liked that most of all because it was a trait he was intimately familiar with and respected.

He closed his palms around the other foot and resumed his gentle ministrations.

“You going to answer my question now?” he asked in a deceptively mild tone.

Sudden alarm replaced the look of languid pleasure and her body went rigid when just moments earlier, as soon as he’d begun massaging her feet, she’d melted bonelessly against the back of the sofa. She bolted upright, her feet dropping from his hands to the floor with a thud.

He cursed, his already fraying patience threatening to completely unravel along with his anger.

“What the hell is wrong now?” he demanded, his narrowed gaze aimed at her.

If he thought the not-so-subtle reprimand would make her back down, he was wrong. She stared up at him with wide eyes that were laced with worry and he was seized by the need to allay any fear she had. Goddamn it, he didn’t want her to be afraid with him, but she wasn’t exactly making it very easy for him.

“My girlfriends,” she stammered out. “Oh my God. They’re probably out of their minds with worry. They may have even already called the police! I was already late getting off work and then I was dragged into a car by your henchman and brought here. What time is it, anyway?”

Drake sighed and managed to rein in his simmering temper. Barely. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what her roommates thought, but he did care that Evangeline was in obvious distress, and he did care that the police could already be involved. If questioned, Evangeline would no doubt have any cop convinced that Drake had abducted her and was even now holding her against her will.

Something he planned to rectify immediately. She would stay. There was no doubt about that. But it would certainly not be against her will. He was never going to get to that point, however, because of the incessant interruptions. He not only despised interruptions and inconveniences, he simply didn’t tolerate either. So why the hell was he suddenly doing just that when it came to one infuriating, exasperating, stubborn woman?

Because you want her as you’ve never wanted another woman.

There was that. Even though the admission didn’t sit well with him at all. Evangeline was a complication he didn’t need. But damn if he didn’t want her. Complications, frustration, inconveniences and all. He almost shook his head. Hell of a thing to find himself in this predicament over an unwilling woman. His men—those closest to him, men he called brothers in every sense of the word—would laugh themselves silly if they even had a hint of the turmoil one small, fragile, infuriating female was causing him.

“Can’t you text them?” he asked mildly, even as he registered that she was frantically digging for her cell in her purse.

Her gaze lifted and she bit into her lip. “Yeah, I’m going to text them right now. I should have texted them the second your goon made me get into the car with him, but I wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the moment. And to be honest, if I tell them where I am and why, me texting them isn’t going to do any good. They’ll definitely call the police and haul ass down here themselves.”

As she spoke, she was typing away on a very small, hopelessly outdated cell phone, murmuring each of the recipients’ names as she added them to the group text.

Drake shrugged. “So tell them you’re somewhere else. You don’t owe them an explanation, nor do you answer to them for your actions.”

She huffed impatiently. “Look, Drake. They know all about what happened here last night. They also know I am not the type of person to be ‘somewhere else’ at almost five o’clock in the morning after working a long shift and being dead on my feet. I’m not a party girl nor do I have men lining up to take me out on dates, so no matter what I tell them, they’re going to smell a rat, and they’re smart. They’ll put two and two together, and here will be the very first place they’ll look for me. Whether I text them or not. Whether I tell them I’m perfectly okay and not to worry. Because that’s what friends do. They have each other’s backs and they worry about each other, and they’re especially protective of me because they know I’m a naïve twit who’s incapable of recognizing a predator when I see one.”

She glanced down at her phone, worry furrowing her brow.

“They haven’t responded. I should call Steph. They’re probably freaking out.”

Drake sighed, not even attempting to hide his irritation and displeasure as she called and evidently didn’t reach this supposedly worried-out-of-her-mind friend, because Evangeline rattled off a message saying she wouldn’t be home and that she was sorry for not contacting them sooner.

Her girlfriends seemed like gigantic pains in the ass, and she’d probably be much better off without them, because it sounded a hell of a lot like they smothered her, judged her, kept her in line and expected her to gain their permission to so much as take a piss.

He mentally winced because he was every bit as controlling, but his method of control and dominance was not even close to what her girlfriends apparently considered their way of managing her life, or rather micromanaging her life. He would always have her best interests at heart. He was almost certain he couldn’t say the same about her girls.

Damn it all. If all Evangeline had said was true, and he had no reason not to believe her, then she was right. A text wasn’t going to head off a potentially ugly confrontation and the cops showing up at his club and him having to answer to kidnapping and coercion charges. Since Evangeline hadn’t received a response, and her phone call had gone unanswered, he was going to have to throw one of his men under the bus and have him take care of the matter personally.

“Maddox,” he snapped, knowing his man would hear at his station outside Drake’s door, the exit on the opposite end of the elevator that not many knew of, and judging by Evangeline’s sudden look of wariness and her quick glance at the elevator as if expecting him to appear from it, she hadn’t noticed the other door in the far corner. She likely thought he was a paranoid, psychotic bastard, and, well, she’d have at least part of it right. He hadn’t survived in his world this long without a healthy degree of paranoia and common sense not to offer his trust freely.

Maddox entered in an instant, his expression wary as he sent a scowl in Evangeline’s direction.

“Go assure Evangeline’s roommates that she is perfectly all right, but she won’t be coming home tonight, or any other night for that matter. Inform them that she’s moving in with me and will be in contact with them in the next day or two and will explain everything to them then.”

“What?” Evangeline’s shriek made Maddox wince. She didn’t look frightened as one might expect. No, she looked outraged and indignant.

Satisfied she wasn’t about to become hysterical with fear, Drake ignored her reaction, instead picking her feet back up and resuming his ministrations, which forced her to recline back onto the couch. Because while she might not dissolve into hysteria, she might well punch him right in the face, so distraction was necessary immediately and she’d definitely enjoyed the foot rub he’d already given her.

Maddox clearly had no liking for the task Drake had assigned him. It was evident in his disgruntled expression.

“What the hell did I do to deserve to be put on difficult and recalcitrant women duty?” Maddox muttered. “Surely you can come up with more creative ways of punishing me, Drake. Defuse a bomb? Stop an assassination attempt? Be a substitute day-care worker for a week?”

Evangeline sent Maddox a saccharine-sweet smile at his acid sarcasm.

“I certainly didn’t ask to be dragged from my workplace at four in the morning to face a man who is clearly out of his mind or has mistaken me for someone else entirely. And if I hadn’t been dragged here, I would be home, and therefore my roommates wouldn’t be out of their minds with worry and you wouldn’t have to deal with difficult, recalcitrant women. Though I’d pay money to see you in a day care with mini spawns of Satan nagging you and pulling you in forty different directions.”

Her smile was mockingly sweet, a definite smirk lurking on her lips, but her words were tart with a distinct edge that amused Drake. Evidently Maddox was as well.

Maddox gave her a quirk of a smile, amusement glimmering in his eyes, and then, just before he turned to exit, he gave her a two-finger salute as if to say, Touché.

As soon as Maddox departed, Evangeline aimed a ferocious albeit cute glare in Drake’s direction and opened her mouth, no doubt to blast him with both barrels, so Drake did the one thing guaranteed to silence her.

He fused his mouth to hers in a hot, breathless kiss, though he wasn’t sure who was the more breathless, him or her. A savage groan worked its way from his chest and into his throat, escaping into the sweetness of her mouth. He swallowed her gasp of surprise and dropped her feet, leaning forcefully into her, grasping her hands when they went to his chest to shove him away.

Instead, he clasped them there over his chest, letting her feel the rapid beat of his heart, allowing her to feel her effect on him. Not something he would normally ever allow to happen, but damn it, he was treading in unfamiliar waters here. He’d never had to deal with a reluctant female when it came to his advances. He was well used to women tripping over themselves in their haste to get to him, to gain his attention. Not try to run as fast and as hard in the other direction as possible.

Reluctantly, he eased his lips from hers, noting the swollen, delectable bow of her mouth and that delicious little funny quirk in the corner. He couldn’t help himself. He flicked his tongue out and licked at it, coaxing another tremble from her already quivering body.

“Now, I’d like an answer to my question,” he said in a deceptively lazy manner. One that might fool someone else into thinking he was merely asking a simple question, one that could either be answered or not.

Her eyes narrowed, telling him without words that she definitely hadn’t missed the hint of command in his tone.

“Why are you working in that place night after night, running yourself into the ground, to complete exhaustion? Where men touch you, put their hands on you and God only knows what else,” he growled.

He was becoming more pissed by the minute, and he was seething as he stared at her. The idea of those bastards putting their hands on what he’d already claimed, fondling her, disrespecting her, had his teeth on edge, and his temper, already bad enough, was fast becoming overwhelmingly foul.

“It’s not that bad,” she said, immediately becoming defensive.

“Bullshit,” he barked, startling her with his vehemence. “I had men in the bar all night. They saw exactly the kind of shit you endure on a nightly basis. Remember the asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer when you oh-so-politely told him to get fucked?”

She blushed. “I didn’t say any such thing.”

“No, but you should have. Remember the man who intervened when it could have gotten ugly? And, Angel, it would have gotten ugly very fast were it not for my man. The one who gave you a hundred-dollar tip? He was one of mine. Now think about it for a minute. Did anyone else there offer to help you? What if my men hadn’t been there?”

Humiliation flashed in her eyes and she turned her head sideways in an attempt to hide her reaction from him. But he caught the flash of tears and it nearly ripped his insides out.

“I’ll give it back,” she whispered. “I had no idea it was a setup. I didn’t earn that. I refuse to take pity money.”

He flinched at the look in her eyes, the evident blow to her pride, the one thing she held fast to when it appeared she had nothing else. Damn it. That was not what he wanted.

She dug into her pocket, several twenties and smaller bills falling out as she yanked. She retrieved the folded hundred-dollar bill and thrust it at him as if she couldn’t bear to touch it a second longer.

“I don’t want it. I won’t take it,” she said, revulsion twisting her lips until he wanted to kiss them back to the sweet, luscious state they had been in mere seconds before.

Drake swore, making her wince. Then he collected all of the scattered bills, folded them carefully and stuffed them back into her pocket.

“My men were there at my order to check the place out as a potential investment. It’s for sale, or did you not know that?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “No. I had no idea. What does that mean? Am I going to lose my job? Oh my God, Drake, what am I going to do? I know it doesn’t look like much, but the tips are good, and I make more money working there than I did working two jobs back home.”

The fear in her eyes was very nearly his undoing. The thought of her working two jobs made him want to smash something. He was sure her tips were very good. Far more than the average waitress working there. Hell, on a good night, she probably pulled in as much as his girls did in his club. With that inherent innocence and bone-deep sweetness? A smile that lit up a city block? The fact that she was so fucking . . . nice? And that wasn’t even taking into account her looks. Those big blue eyes, the long silken mass of hair that made a man itch to run his hands through it, and that ass. God, that ass. Delectable. Plump. Just enough jiggle when she walked to make a man lose his mind. And her tits. Fuck, he could recite all her good qualities all night and never get to the end. She was the total package, and when men looked at her, they did a double take, especially after talking to her for just a few minutes, because they were all wondering how the hell such a perfect woman existed. And then they set their sights on how to get next to her. In her bed, between her legs, and how to stay there, because who the fuck—other than her dumb-ass ex-boyfriend—would be stupid enough to ever let her go once he’d had a taste of all she offered?

Jesus, he had to stop because she was staring at him oddly, obviously waiting for him to say whatever he had been about to say next, and he was too busy extolling her virtues and mentally covering her with NO TRESPASSING signs because he was staking his claim and he’d kill the man who tried to take what was his.

“You’re missing my point,” he said as patiently as he was able when he wanted to smash something, dispense with the niceties and drag her home and keep her there under lock and key. “Only Maddox knew about you, and he remained outside so you wouldn’t see him and bolt. Whatever tip my man gave you was because he wanted to and felt you earned it. He had no idea you belong to me.”

“What?”

“I’ll ask you a third time, and Evangeline, I am not used to having to ask more than once. Ever. Why the hell are you working yourself to death in a place like that? Subjecting yourself to that kind of treatment from men who have no respect for you and treat you like an object. Who harass you, put their hands on you and disrespect you on a nightly basis.”

She sighed, closing her eyes, but not before a single tear slipped down one pale cheek.

“I have to have that job,” she choked out. “I’m not from here, the city I mean. As I’m sure you can tell. I come from a small town in the south. I’ve had to work my entire life. I had to drop out of high school and get my GED so I could work. College wasn’t an option.”

“Why?” he asked softly.

She went on as if she hadn’t heard.

“My father worked in a local factory and was injured and disabled as a result. Workman’s comp refused to pay, citing some ridiculous, trumped-up loophole that I still don’t understand. But he couldn’t work as a result. My mother also has health issues. My father was our only means of support. I could have gone to college,” she said wistfully. “I was a good student. I qualified for an academic scholarship to a state university, before I had to drop out. But Mama and Papa needed me.”

Drake’s lips tightened as some of the pieces fell into place. It was suddenly making a lot more sense than it had a few minutes earlier.

“I was working two jobs at home and they were barely making it,” she said, shame shadowing her gaze.

Most notably absent from her statement was how she had made it, because he already knew enough about her present circumstances to know that she would have given every penny to her parents, only keeping enough for her bare necessities. And they were very bare.

“Steph, one of my current roommates—she and my other roommates, we all went to high school together and we stayed in touch. They moved to the city. They wanted out of our small town. Wanted bigger and better. I don’t blame them. But I had a responsibility,” she said, her chin notching upward, fire entering her eyes. “My family is my only responsibility—my priority before all else. I will not fail them.

“Anyway, she called me and said they were a roommate short and they could get me a job making better money, good tips, and they had a small apartment that wouldn’t break the bank with my share of the rent. So I moved up here and I send money back to my parents every week. I pay my portion of the rent, utilities and groceries, but every spare penny goes to my mother so she can care for my father.”

Drake was growing angrier by the minute. His entire jaw ached because it was clamped shut against the tirade that was just waiting to be unleashed. He wanted to end this farce immediately and take over, but he needed to know what he was up against. Every single detail.

“When I can, I take extra shifts,” she explained. “If I’m lucky, during the holidays, I can get seasonal part-time work, which enables me to send all of that extra to my mom.”

“And in the meantime you work yourself to the bone. You go without. You put yourself in unimaginable danger, not to mention work a demeaning job where men assume your body is theirs to do with as they please.”

Her gaze flew upward at the whiplike anger in his tone, and genuine puzzlement shone in her beautiful eyes.

“This shit is over,” he bit out. “You need a keeper. Someone to take care of you for once in your life. You’re moving in with me. You’re finished working yourself to death in a place where men put their hands on you, maul you, say shit to you no man should ever say to another woman. Furthermore, your parents will have no financial worries any longer. And neither will you.”

Her mouth gaped open and her gaze turned incredulous as she stared back at him as if to determine whether he was serious. He returned her gaze unflinchingly, telling her without words that he was serious as a heart attack.

“Are you crazy?” she shouted. “You can’t just tell me I’m moving in with you like it’s a foregone conclusion.”

“It is,” he said calmly.

“The hell it is! You’re . . . you’re out of your mind!” she sputtered, throwing her hands up like she wanted to yank her hair out with frustration. Then she shook her head adamantly. “You can’t just keep me prisoner!”

He smiled and responded in a lazy drawl. “Can’t I? But, Angel, I can assure you, as far as prisoners go? There will never exist a more pampered, spoiled and indulged captive. And I can guarantee you won’t be trying to escape after you’ve had a taste of all I can give you. And just a warning, Angel. I give a lot. Everything. But I take every bit as much as I give.”

“This is crazy,” she whispered. “What exactly do I tell my friends? My girls? My family? I can’t just disappear off the face of the earth. They’ll go crazy. And I can’t leave my roommates hanging. They can’t afford the apartment without my share of the rent. I don’t make much, but neither do they and it’s a stretch to afford a two-bedroom even between four people.”

“Your girls will be taken care of. Their rent will be paid so your absence won’t cause them any hardship.”

Her lips drew into a mutinous line. “No. I won’t let you do that. You can’t buy me. Or my friends. You aren’t paying me for sex. God, that would make me a whore! A prostitute. How could I look at myself in the mirror every morning knowing I’m some man’s plaything. A paid plaything.”

He was getting pissed, and he made no effort to hide that from her. “I’m not paying for sex. I don’t ever have to pay for sex. What I give to you, whatever I choose to give to you, are gifts. Gifts I expect you to accept and think of creative ways of expressing your gratitude. You’re mine for as long as our arrangement lasts, and that puts your girls in a bind. And I’m responsible for that bind because I’m a selfish bastard who takes what he wants and won’t accept no for an answer. So I’ll cover their rent because me being selfish puts them in a bind, and I won’t be responsible for three women losing their home because of my demands.”

“Oh,” she said softly. Then she shook her head. “This is insane. This sort of thing doesn’t happen.”

“In my world it does,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“There is only one world,” she snapped. “And we all live in the same world.”

“And that is where I intend to prove you wrong, Angel. My world, my rules. I answer to no one, and no one fucks with me or what’s mine.”

“And is that what I am? Yours?”

“For the time being? Yes.”

She looked instantly uneasy, her eyes worried and apprehensive.

“And what happens to me when you figure out I’m not all that and you don’t want me anymore?” she asked quietly.

“You will always be taken care of, Angel. I’m not a complete bastard. If the day comes that we no longer are compatible, then you will be taken care of for the rest of your life. You needn’t have any concerns that I’ll cast you off and leave you to fend for yourself. That will never happen. You have my word on it.”

Drake reached up to take one of her hands and gently pulled it down until it was completely encircled in his.

“You’re a beautiful woman who deserves far more than what you’re getting out of life, and I’m going to make you see that, no matter how long it takes. You’re a woman any man would be on his knees to have. And you’re as attracted to me as I’m attracted to you. I didn’t imagine you coming all over my mouth last night.”

Her face went beet red and she hastily averted her gaze, but he reached with his free hand to cup her chin, gently forcing her to face him once more.

“You were so fucking beautiful and so wild, and I want to be the man who gently brings you to heel. I want to be the man who takes care of you, the man you ultimately answer to, the man who controls you.”

“Controls?” she asked incredulously. “Do you even know how obscene that sounds? No one controls me!”

“I do—I will. But you’ll blossom under my care. Have no doubt there. There will not be a more spoiled, adored woman on this earth, because what is mine I take care of in all ways, and your happiness, your protection, your life comes before all else.”

She looked at him in utter bewilderment. “Why would you do this for a woman like me? You could have any woman you wanted.”

She broke off, blushing furiously, her eyes dropping in shame and God only knew what else. Fury rose inside him, and he was forced to loosen his grip on her hand or risk hurting her.

“Explain what you mean by a woman like you. And be careful how you word it, Angel, and how you say it, or I’m not going to be very happy with you.”

She swept her hand down the length of her as if that explained it all. Then she sent him a helpless look that suggested she had no idea how to explain what in her mind was a very obvious fact.

“You have no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed,” he said through clenched teeth. “And you will be neither with me, because that will not please me. Who you are, what you are, is what I want. Not your fucked-up idea of who and what I want. I know when I see something whether I want it or not, and I wanted you the minute you walked into my club. Your not believing me or thinking otherwise is bullshit. But you’ll figure that out in your own time.”

“There’s no way I can ever pay you back,” she said desperately. “I’ll never be your equal. I’ll never be able to pay back the kind of money you’re talking about.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said in a soft voice that made her shiver.

In that moment, she looked very much like prey being stalked, and he was the predator closing in on his prey. Hunted. He could deny none of those things when that was well what he was doing.

“Nothing is ever free,” he continued, taking advantage of her momentary silence as she grappled with the things he had said and was saying. “The price is you. All of you. I’ll own you. Every inch of you. I’m a man who is always in control of everything in my world. My world, my rules. And you have to play by my rules. I especially demand control when it comes to the women in my bed. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“N-no,” she stammered out, clearly not understanding.

He swore softly. “Such a fucking innocent.”

For a moment he simply trailed a finger down the line of her cheek and then brushed the pad of his thumb over the full curve of her lips. He could feel the sudden exhalation of her breaths as they sped up and the trembling increased. But it wasn’t fear. She was aroused.

“Dominance, Angel. And your submission. Your complete and utter submission. In all things, but especially in my bed. You don’t deny me anything. What I want, I take. What I choose to give, I give. You don’t have a choice, and you don’t get to tell me no. Ever.”

“You’re talking about rape!” she said in a horrified voice. “About taking my choices completely away from me!”

Drake scowled, allowing her to see how angry her response made him.

“Now you’re just pissing me off. You’ll be willing. I guarantee you’ll love every single thing I choose to do to you. You’ll beg me for more. You won’t even think about saying no. When you step into my world, I own you. I possess you. There isn’t a single inch of your beautiful skin that will go untouched, unworshipped. No part of you I won’t fuck. You went up in flames on my desk, all laid out like a gift, and never once did you say no. You lit up the minute I touched you. You were wild, uninhibited, and you held nothing back.”

Her eyes became dull, shame and embarrassment crowding into their depths.

“Goddamn it, Angel. You will not be ashamed of anything that occurred between you and me. Ever. You will not take something that fucking beautiful and twist it into something shameful and ugly.

“That motherfucker who did a number on you and made you feel like you were nothing was a fucking idiot. He had something that men would kill for and he pissed it away. He’s an inept bastard who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman. He’s the inferior fuckwad and he knows it, so he lashes out to make himself more than the fucking coward he is. He gets off on belittling others so he can feel better about himself. He knows he’s a piece of shit and the only way he can deal with that knowledge is to knock down everyone around him, especially women. It’s a high to him because it’s the only time he feels like anything other than the worthless piece of shit he and the rest of the world knows he is.”

Evangeline’s look turned to one of absolute wonder, her eyes filling with something that made Drake uncomfortable. She looked at him like he was some fucking hero, and that made him wince. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a good man. He was a selfish bastard willing to go to any lengths to make this woman his.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

Drake inhaled, realizing he was about to do something he never did.

Ask.

“Give me a chance, Angel,” he murmured. “Give me the chance to prove to you all I’ve said. To do all I’ve said I will do. Will you at least agree to give me a chance?”

She studied him for a long moment, clear indecision warring with hope, fear and . . . curiosity. Finally, she closed her eyes, but when they reopened, resolve shone like a beacon.

“Yes,” she replied softly. “I think I must be crazy, but yes. I’ll give you a chance.”

“Us,” he corrected. “You’re giving us a chance.”

But there was still an air of hesitancy about her, as if she regretted her impulsive response, and Drake knew he had to get her out of here and to his apartment fast.

Before she came to her senses and ran like hell.