I wanted to push his buttons, to make him realize he didn’t want me around anymore. But the way he deflated when I insulted his amazing bookcase cut me. It shouldn’t have. After all, I was his prisoner. Even so, the disappointment in him ate at me.

“I’d hoped you would like it.” He shrugged. “But I suppose not. I’ll have Timothy get rid of it.” Turning on his heel, he strode to the door.

I stared at the priceless texts arrayed before me, many of which I’d never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get the chance to see firsthand. These were copies, but it didn’t matter. They were here at my fingertips.

“Wait.” The word slipped from my lips on a hasty breath.

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Yes?”

“Don’t get rid of them.”

“I thought you didn’t care for them?” He turned and strode back to me, the fire in his eyes rekindled.

“I didn’t say that.”

He smiled, giving him an almost boyish look that couldn’t be further from the truth. “You didn’t. And I’m generally not so great at inferring emotion, but I could sense your disdain.”

“I guess if I have to be a prisoner, I may as well have something to do.” I kept my answer as nonchalant as possible despite the fact that I wanted to go over every text, scan every map, and read every scrap of information written by Teixeira.

He studied me, his eyes searching mine. “This is going to require a deal.”

“What?” I backed away a step. “You just said you were giving these to me.”

“That was before.” He followed. “Now that I have something I know you want, I need something from you in return.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Fine.” His smile turned into a grin. “I’ll have Timothy start a bonfire outside our bedroom window so you can see it.”

Monster. “You wouldn’t.”

“I will.”

My insides twisted, and I ground my teeth. “What do you want?”

“Just a kiss.”

A thrill shot through me, and I hated myself for it. He was horrible, a kidnapper, a stalker—every bad guy rolled into one. So why did he bring my emotions to the surface far easier than Link ever did?

“No.” I despised the tremor in my voice.

“You sure?” He ran his fingers along the spines and grabbed one book from an upper shelf. “This one is Phytology of Iris sibirica.” He opened the front pages and stopped on a hand drawn, vividly colored portrait of a Siberian iris. “You likely wouldn’t miss it.” He pulled on the page, the beautiful drawing ripping under his deliberate destruction.

“Stop!” I steeled my spine. “One kiss on the cheek. That’s it.”

His hand paused. “Not quite.”

My throat tightened, and the air in the room seemed to dissipate.

“What then?” I wanted to snatch the book from his grasp.

He stepped toward me, and I backed up until I could feel the waves of heat from the fireplace.

“I want a kiss.” He reached out and dragged his thumb along my lower lip. “A real one. And then you can keep the books.”

“And if I say no?” My ears went hot, then cold as he loomed above me.

He gestured toward the flames with the book. “I’ll let the staff roast marshmallows over the fire.”

I fisted my palms. “One kiss. That’s it.”

“That’s all I want. Will you give it to me?” He moved even closer, his scent intoxicating me right along with his evil words.

This was a mistake. I knew it in the deepest part of my soul. Deals with the devil always came back to bite. But I’d be damned if he’d burn my one escape—the one place where I could still be me despite the chains he’d wrapped around me.

I took a deep breath and signed in blood. “Yes.”

He swooped down like a bird of prey. The book dropped to the floor. Resting one hand on my cheek and the other at my waist, he pressed his lips to mine in a rough kiss that took my breath away. I squeaked with surprise, and he slid his palm to my lower back and clutched me to him as his tongue darted along my lips.

I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as he bent me back. Caught between a raging fire and the flames at my back, I clung to him. He slipped past my defenses, using my surprise against me. When he slid his tongue against mine, he groaned, the sound vibrating into my chest and sending sparks of heat skittering across my skin.

He consumed me, taking every bit he could. His mouth was a weapon, and he used it to break me down until I closed my eyes and returned his touch. God it was wrong, so wrong, and I hated him, but I couldn’t stop my nipples from tightening or the goose bumps that danced along my body as he kissed me. A moan slipped from me, and he ran a hand to my hair, pulling my head back and slanting his mouth over mine.

Owned. This was what it felt like to be owned by someone else. I’d never felt anything like it. Not with Link. The thought sent a crushing wave of shame through me.

I pushed against his hard chest. He didn’t let up, still taking everything he wanted. It felt so good, but I knew it was wrong. Everything in me revolted, and I turned my head away. He growled, but pulled me into a standing position and released my hair. His eyes flicked to my lips, then to my eyes, and he seemed to be on the edge of coming back for more.

More. No. I buried the desire that tried to burn through my reason.

“Leave the books alone.” I side-stepped him and hugged myself. “You got what you wanted.”

He ran his fingers along my exposed neck, and I shivered.

He moved closer, but dropped his hand. “That wasn’t even close to what I want from you.”