We ate dinner downstairs in the large dining room. Rita served us with pride, and I ate more than I had at lunch. Her pork tenderloin and new potatoes could tempt even the most stalwart of stomachs.

Sebastian sat at the head of the table, and I perched on the chair to his left. The rest of the room remained barren, too much open space to be comfortable.

I sipped my wine and pondered the butter knife on my plate. Would it do any damage?

“If you’re going to stab me, I’d use the fork. It would leave a better impression. More badass than a dull butter knife, don’t you think?” His face was calm, but I could feel him laughing at me.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a name caller.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and lay it neatly next to his plate. “And quite the cuss, as well.”

“I wasn’t.” I took a deep, calming breath. “Until you imprisoned me.”

“It’s only been, what, a day?” The edge of his mouth quirked up. “Just imagine how horribly you’ll treat me tomorrow.”

My blood turned into lava. “How I treat you?” I seethed and seriously considered taking his advice with the fork.

Rita walked in from the kitchen with two plates, each laden with a large slice of layered cheesecake. Chocolate and cream cheese combined to form the most decadent dessert I’d ever seen—and one I recognized.

“Is this from Delatoni’s?” I scrutinized the delicious confection as Rita placed it in front of me.

“Of course not.” Sebastian took his plate from Rita.

“I made it for you.” Rita blushed.

I wanted to crawl under the table. “I meant no offense, Rita. I’m sorry. It looks so good.”

“Please, enjoy.” She waved away my apology and returned through the side door to the kitchen.

It had the exact same caramel drizzle along the top, even the same dollop of whipped cream, as my all-time favorite dessert—the layered cheesecake only available at Delatoni’s in Brooklyn.

I arched an eyebrow at Sebastian. “Did you do this?”

“I’m not much of a baker. So, no.” He grabbed his dessert fork.

“You know what I mean.” My mouth watered, but I wouldn’t touch my cheesecake until he explained what was going on.

“If you’re asking me about the recipe, yes. I paid Mr. Delatoni handsomely for it and entrusted it to Rita.” He sliced a triangle of deliciousness from the front edge and slipped it into his mouth.

His eyes closed, and he made an “mmm” sound that made my stomach tighten. He chewed and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the collar of his button down. I had to look away. Every emotion that should have been dead inside me sputtered to life. How could I feel anything for Sebastian other than disgust?

“How did you know it was my favorite?”

He pointed to my slice. “Take a bite, and I’ll tell you.”

The caramel swirl along the side drizzled down the layers. I licked my lips.

“Think of it this way. If you don’t even try it, Rita will blame herself for not making it well enough.”

I resisted the urge to call him another name. It just seemed to play into his hands, as if he wanted me to give in to every cruel thought that flitted across my mind. Not that I had a lot of them. But the fact that he wanted me to act on my negative thoughts threatened to undermine my plan of “out-nastying” him into releasing me.

I plucked my dessert fork from the table and slid it through the velvety layers. Surely it wouldn’t be as good as Delatoni’s, no offense to Rita. The perfect flavors of cheesecake, chocolate, and caramel hit my tongue. Oh my god. It was better than Delatoni’s. I tried another bite, testing my theory and finding it to be true. It was so good.

“What’s the verdict?” He watched me, satisfaction creeping across his handsome face as I failed to hide my enjoyment.

“Rita has outdone herself.” I forced myself to set the fork down. “Now how did you know that was my favorite?”

“I overheard that imbecile Link talking about how he was going to take you to Delatoni’s for your birthday a few months ago. He was bragging to everyone in my conference room right as I arrived.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t met you yet, but I recalled that bit of info after we met.”

“Yeah, because that’s not the least bit creepy.”

“Where you’re concerned, I’ll be as creepy as necessary to make you happy.”

I bit my tongue, though I wanted to remind him that what would make me happiest was freedom. It wouldn’t do any good.

“Don’t stop now. Get all the sweetness you want.” He licked the tines of his fork, his tongue doing things to me that I refused to acknowledge. “I intend to.”

I pulled my napkin from my lap and slapped it on the dark wood table. “I’ve had enough.”

“Off to bed, then?” He rose. “I’m game.”

“I’d prefer to go back to the library.”

“So you can fall asleep in front of the fire, alone?” He tsked. “I think not. Your place is with me.”

He’d seen right through me. Damn him.

I plucked my fork from the plate and took another bite. “In that case, I think I’ll enjoy a leisurely dessert. Is there coffee?”

He sank back into his chair, amusement brightening the depths of his unfathomable eyes. “Of course. Anything you want.”

I’d waited him out, eaten almost all of my cheesecake, and drank my coffee until the last cup began to go cold. The large clock in the foyer struck midnight, and I desperately wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep away this nightmare of a day.

“Have you had enough?” He lounged comfortably, though his large frame made the ornate dining chair squeak whenever he shifted.

“I’m tired.”

“I know.” He stood. “It’s past your bedtime.”

I needed to rest, to think, to get a clear idea of how I was going to get out of this mess. Even if that meant I’d have to sleep in his bed. I’d just hug the edge again as I’d done the previous night.

“You win.” I rose, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I’d tucked the fork inside my sleeve.

“I won the moment I found you.” His tone was soft, and his eyes were uncharacteristically warm, as if he believed I was some priceless treasure he’d stumbled upon.

I took a step, and my ankle twinged. I stopped and grabbed onto the back of my chair. The run must have irritated an old tennis injury I’d gotten in high school.

He grabbed my elbow. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” I took another step, testing my ankle. “I’m fine.” It hurt more with the second step, so I stopped.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” I took a halting step.

He swooped me into his arms in a quick movement. I squeaked my surprise.

“Hey!” I glared up at him.

“Rita, have Timothy bring some ice to my room,” he called toward the kitchen as he carried me into the hallway.

“I can walk.”

“You’re in pain.” He clutched me to his chest, carrying me as if I weighed no more than a toddler. “I don’t want that.”

Confusion reigned in my mind as he ascended the stairs. “You don’t make any sense.”

“Don’t I?” He climbed to the first landing, then turned left toward his room. “I tend to find I’m effortlessly logical.”

“I’m in pain because you’ve kidnapped me. But you don’t seem to mind that pain at all.”

“That’s not real. It’s passing.”

“You don’t know that.”

He used the hand under my legs to enter the door code. “I do. The pain you feel now is just a pale ghost compared to the happiness you’ll feel once you realize the truth like I have.”

“What truth?”

“That you and I are two parts of a whole.” He sat me on the bed and knelt. His warm hands slid along my foot to my ankle.

“First, that’s insane. Second, I’m fine.”

He ignored me and pulled up my jeans leg to get a better look. “You have some bruising.”

“It’ll go away.” Somehow, him being kind was the worst of all. “Please stop.”

He looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I don’t want your help.” I scooted back on the bed and crossed my legs.

“You’re getting it anyway.”

A knock sounded at the door, followed by the button presses.

Timothy walked in, his eyes bleary from sleep, a bucket of ice in one hand and a bag of frozen peas in the other. “Rita insisted on the peas.” He handed all of it to Sebastian.

“I take it you haven’t reconsidered helping me?” I asked.

Timothy didn’t even look at me.

“That’s all.” Sebastian dismissed him and turned to me. “Take your pants off. In fact, strip all the way.”

“No.” I hugged my middle.

Sebastian sighed and set the bucket and peas on the floor next to the bed. “Why do you have to do everything the hard way?”

“Just leave me alone.” I moved farther back and pressed the fork against my skin, its presence reminding me I had the semblance of a weapon.

“Not going to happen.” He stalked me around the bed. “I need to ice your ankle.”

“Get away.” I tried to skitter to the other side of the bed, but he grabbed my good leg and yanked me to the edge, then held me in place by my upper arms.

“If you let me ice your ankle, I’ll let you get away with wearing underwear to bed. One night only. If you keep fighting me, I’ll strip you, tie you, and ice your ankle all the same.” He released my arms and backed away. “Your choice.”

I sat up. He’d cornered me. I was tired and hurt, with no chance of fighting him off if he made good on his threat. “Underwear and a t-shirt.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. “My t-shirt.”

“Underwear and your t-shirt?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

This was the second deal with the devil I’d made. How many more before he owned my soul? “Agreed.”

“Take your pants off.” He retrieved the ice and peas as I shucked my jeans onto the floor.

I pulled my shirt down to cover my panties.

“I’ve seen all of you.” He hit the floor at my feet and took my ankle in his hands again.

“Doesn’t mean you have a right to see any more of it.”

“I have every right.” He pressed the peas to my skin. “How’s that?”

“Cold.”

“Good.”

“And you don’t have every right.” I couldn’t let it go.

“Does it make you feel better that you have every right to me, as well?” He looked up at me, his eyes guileless.

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

I scoffed. “If that’s true, then strip.”

He balanced the peas on my ankle and stood. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He whipped it off and let it fall to the floor. He pulled his white undershirt off, giving me a front row view of his abs and the trail of dark hair leading into his pants.

When his hands went to the button of his jeans, I balked. “Wait.”

He paused. “It’s yours if you want it.” The innuendo was heavy in his voice, and it sank deep inside me, landing between my thighs.

I fidgeted, and the peas dropped to the floor with a thwop. “I don’t.”

“If you say so.” He dropped to his knee again and repositioned the peas. “I’ll get a sport bandage to keep this in place and a t-shirt for you to wear. Be right back.”

I watched him disappear into the bathroom, his broad shoulders flexing beneath perfectly smooth skin.

“Oh, by the way.” His voice floated back to me. “You missed the perfect chance to fork me when I was leaning down to see about your ankle.”

Damn him.