He’d destroy my soul if I stayed.
“This is the last time you defy me,” he said quietly. “Understand?”
“Yes.” My eyelashes fluttered rebelliously.
He studied my face. “Usually you’re so compliant, Pandora. What’s gotten into you?”
I’d remained under his control because he had the power to see my father’s ambitions realized. Walking away from an alliance this powerful wasn’t what good girls did if they wanted their families to still love them.
“Say something.” He tipped up my chin.
He was taller than his brother and a lot stronger—and if at all possible, crueler.
“You’ve not talked to me all night, Mr. Godman.”
“It’s Damien, for Christ’s sake. Is that what this is…you want more attention?”
“Yes and no.”
His expression softened. “You look pretty tonight. Though you always do.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t look at me like that. You may come from old money, but your father still needs mine.”
“We both know I’m marrying beneath me.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
“Always a charmer, Ms. Bardot.”
It was true his family had climbed the social ladder for decades. They may have amassed an astounding fortune, but their legacy had nothing on the centuries-old noble succession of my family. Which was where I came in, evidently.
“Where does your accent come from?” he asked, scolding me. “At times, you almost sound like Jackie Kennedy.”
“Well, I’ve been molded since birth to accommodate you and your family—to be the perfect trophy wife. I hope to balance your uncouth ways the best I can.”
I rushed out of the bathroom but he caught up to me immediately and dragged me against his chest, holding me tight. We were alone in the hallway.
“If you continue with your rebellion, I will have to correct your behavior.”
“Did I strike a nerve, Mr. Godman? Being reminded I’m too good for you must sting.”
His grip around my waist shot pressure into my spine.
“I’m protecting you from yourself.” His mouth loomed close to mine.
I was panting softly, feeling his breath on my lips, his cock pressing into my belly.
“I don’t want to announce our engagement tonight,” I whispered.
“Want to tell me why?”
“I need more time.”
“I’m afraid it can’t be stopped.”
“Please, Damien.”
He let out a long sigh. “You exasperate me.”
“Do what you can.”
“Let me think on it.” Damien leaned in again to brush his lips over mine—teasing me.
My sex throbbed in response to his dark flirting…and he knew it—knew that even if my eyes showed him defiance, my body couldn’t help but respond to his charisma and the masterful way he dominated me. Perhaps my infatuation would never be shaken. I’d crushed on the Senator’s son at that Debutante Ball because I’d been too innocent to see it was a match-making endeavor. My coming out party presented me as a woman who was ready to be plucked.
“A fruit in need of bruising.” He’d teased me with those very words the night we’d met. “To draw out your sweetness.”
Our first dance together had made my girlfriends jealous. I’d been too naive to realize that the look of excitement on my parents’ faces had been because of their successful scheming to have me marry into this family.
To make me his.
Make me a Godman.
Damien gave me a predatory smile—his prey subdued by the strength of his hold and the dominating way he’d captured me. It would be easy to bite his lip, show more rebellion. I was burning up with the heat he radiated from all that hidden passion.
He smirked. “I don’t want any evidence of my discipline to appear at the cocktail party. Maybe after everyone’s gone.”
I flinched as though he’d already hit me. “Don’t.”
“I don’t mean to strike you, Pandora. I’m not a Neanderthal.” His glare narrowed. “You’re like this because you crave discipline.”
I turned my head, refusing to look in his eyes.
His warm breath kissed my cheek. “You’re so damn needy. This is why you defy me. You’re constantly craving what only I can give you.” His thumb rubbed over my bottom lip and dipped into my mouth; as sensual as it was forbidden. “I’ve arranged for the house at Seascape to be made ready.”
That almost made my knees buckle.
He was talking about his private oceanside home that was a helicopter flight from here. The place I’d only heard about. The Godmans had homes all around the world, including New York, Milan, France, and England. I’d never be able to run from Seascape. It was in the middle of nowhere.
Damien’s mother had hinted her eldest son might whisk me away tonight after the party, and she’d smiled as she’d delivered the news. Those other things she’d spoken of threatened to haunt my nightmares forever.
I refused to think of them now.
“You and I will spend the weekend at Seascape.” He gave a nod. “I believe that once you and I get to know each other better, you’ll relax around me.”
Did he mean sleep together?
“We have to wait—”
“Go back to the ballroom and pretend you want to be there. Then you and I will have the rest of the evening to ourselves.”
He let me go and I headed down the hallway. I was shaking uncontrollably.
“Pandora,” he called after me.
I stopped walking, waiting for him to continue without looking back, not wanting to see the victory in his eyes.
“Remember you’re a collector’s item.” Damien quickly closed the gap between us, standing right behind me to speak softly in my ear. “Behave as such.”
“There are other women out there you might prefer.”
He brushed a fingertip along my bare shoulder. “Be a good girl. Don’t make me regret not punishing you for your indiscretion.”
I nodded, feeling a shiver run down my spine. “Tell your brother to keep his hands off me.”
“I will deal with him. Now off you go.”
I hurried along the hallway in the direction of the ballroom, my heart pounding in my ears and Damien’s cologne clinging to me, his amber scent scorching my psyche. My continued yearning for him was poisoning me.
As I neared the ballroom where the prestigious guests had gathered for the evening, I raised my chin preparing to face all of these strangers again. I needed to put the fear out of my mind—the fear of being alone with Damien later in some secluded house.
“Miss Bardot!”
I turned to face one of the Godman’s staff—a burly man wearing a tuxedo.
“Senator Godman wants to see you in his office.”
Fine hairs prickled on the back of my neck. “Damien requested that I go directly to the ballroom.”
“This way, please.” The man gestured toward a door at the other end of the hallway.
I wanted to listen to my intuition and refuse to be in the same room alone with Gregor Godman.