“It doesn’t excuse my actions, either, Emi. I realized that after I had time to settle down and think about the situation. I should have told you everything. I should have come to you with the problem so we could figure out a solution together, not decide what I thought was best for you.”
“Yes,” I say, “you should have. What you and my father have failed to understand is that I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need to be saved.”
“No, you don’t,” he says, hanging his helmet on one of the French door knobs. “You saved yourself, baby, and I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I watch as he starts to undo the front of his heavy coat, the reflective strips flashing from the candlelight as he moves. Now that I’m not on the edge of an emotional meltdown, seeing him in his firefighter stuff is igniting a more physical reaction in me. Clearing my throat, I ask, “Why are you dressed like that?”
A hint of a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “My gear is the closest thing I have to shining armor. And even though you don’t need saving, I’d still like to be your hero, princess.”
Ah hell. There’s no stopping the moisture building up behind my eyes now. This man always manages to say the sweetest things to make my heart melt. If I thought it was just cheesy lip service, it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest. But Austin Massey doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean; it’s all right there in his light-green eyes.
“But we both know that I don’t only want to be your hero…”
My breath catches as he removes the coat to reveal his naked upper body, which is now covered in tattoos across his chest and shoulders. It’s too much to take in all the details at once, but what stands out are the ravens in flight on each of his pecs.
“Underneath all that, I want to be your villain,” he says. “I want to be the man who fulfills your darkest fantasies with the careful brutality I know you crave. I want to be the man who possesses you in the dark of night and then worships you in the light of day.”
He steps out of his bunker pants and boots, then walks toward me in nothing but a pair of worn black jeans with frayed holes in the knees and the black ink decorating his chest. His movements are lithe, and his muscles sleek as they shift beneath his skin; a panther on the prowl and looking every inch the sexy badass he claims to be as he comes to stand behind me. My body shivers with anticipation. Every cell in my body is tingling, waiting. I know this man. It’s not a question of if he touches me, but when.
Then I feel it. The light drag of his fingertips down the side of my neck… I melt. Tension leaches from my muscles faster than any massage could ever do, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that he still has the power to center me with a single touch. I hear him breathe a deep sigh, a long exhalation of satisfaction or maybe contentment.
“That’s my girl,” he rumbles in my ear, and I realize he wasn’t the one who sighed. It was me. “You were meant for me. My princess and my doll. You’re mine, Emi.”
I can deny it all I want, but I know he’s right. He still has my heart, and he damn sure still has command over my body. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s exactly what I want. I want him to own me, heart, body, and soul, for the rest of time. But I’m so afraid to open myself back up to being hurt again.
I hold my breath, waiting for what happens next. He brushes my hair away from my face, then caresses my cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “Emmélie,” he whispers.
My facade cracks. The tenderness of his touch, the desperation in his tone, and the reverence of my name on his lips… It breaks my heart all over again, but I force myself to choke back the tears and turn to face him with steel in my gut. “You don’t get it, do you? I opened myself up to you, I gave you everything that I am. And then you shut me out, and you left me. It’s the first truly villainous thing you’ve ever done, and it killed me.”
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I’m so fucking sorry, I can’t even tell you.”
I can’t hold them back anymore. Hot tears trail down my cheeks—my heart’s screw you message to my brain’s determination to hold my resolve. Austin moves to pull me in, but I raise my hands to his chest and block his advance. Unlike the times when we played, he immediately steps back and gives me the space I know he wants to obliterate. It’s there in his eyes, the pain and regret that echoes inside my heart.
“Emi,” he croaks out. “I’m willing to do whatever you need to take me back. But if there’s no chance—if you truly want me out of your life—then you have to tell me. Because there’s only one way I’ll ever walk out on you again. You know what to say.”
Raven. My safe word. He’s telling me to make a decision. To once and for all choose a life without him, if that’s what I want. Not through avoidance, but through conscious thought and action. I try. I swear I do. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to let it fall.
He made a mistake, but then he stood up to my father and fought for his place in my life. I love him, and I know he loves me. He’s right: we are made for each other, and throwing this away would be the worst sort of tragedy.
Holding his gaze, I take the step toward him and my future. He releases a rush of air as he gathers me against his chest. His voice is filled with the conviction of a man with nothing to lose. “I will never leave you again. Do you hear me? Never.”
I sniff back the waterworks and lift my head to look him in the eyes. “Never again,” I repeat. “Swear it, Austin.”
“I swear on our mothers’ graves.” Apparently done letting me direct things, Austin scoops me up and carries me into the room, but I keep going, needing to get everything out.
“And no more deciding what’s best for me. I’ve had enough of that in my life, thank you very much.”
“Agreed,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed with me curled in his lap.
Remembering all the times he’s made me repeat after him, I figure turnabout is fair play. “Say it, Austin. Say ‘I will not be a pompous ass who assumes I know what’s best for you.’”
“Baby, I swear, I will not be a pompous ass who assumes I know what’s best for you. What else do you need? I marked my body with your symbol, but I’ll ink your name on my ass like a branded steer if that’s what you want.”
I smile and trace my fingers over the images. “I can’t believe you did that. They’re beautiful.”
“No, they’re just pictures. You’re the beautiful one. And I plan on spending every day for the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me, if you give me the chance.”
Looking up at him through my lashes, I bite my lip to try and hide my smile. “Okay, but you better not screw up again. Addie’s already threatened your manhood.”
“Yeah, I heard that earlier,” he says wryly. “Usually she’s just kidding around, but this time I have no doubt she’ll make good on that promise. She loves you, you know. They all do.”
“The feeling’s mutual. And for the record, she’s not the only one you’ll have to worry about. Break my heart again and I’ll make what she does to you feel like child’s play.”
He smiles wide, his dimples making their first appearance. “Duly noted.” He grows serious again, framing my face with his hands and touching his forehead to mine. “God, Emi, I missed you so damn much,” he rasps.
“I missed you, too. I don’t want to be without you ever again.”
“You never will.” We’re so close that his words are painted directly onto my lips. “I love you, baby, now and forever.”
“Show me,” I whisper into his mouth. “Give me the one thing only you can give me.”
“What’s that, princess?”
“My villain.”
Heat flashes in his eyes, and I feel my body sigh in relief as I recognize the beast in him rising to the surface. There he is, my dark knight, here to save me in the most deviant ways imaginable.
Growling, he lays me back and pins my wrists above my head. His body covers mine, his solid weight anchoring me to the mattress
just as it anchors me in this moment. This moment where lines blur between good and evil and right and wrong. This moment where my hero becomes my villain.
This moment that is…my happily ever after.
…
Acknowledgements
As always, a huge thank you to my husband and two teenage kids. Though they don’t need me as much anymore, I know it’s not fun for them when I’m on a huge deadline and barely have time for bathroom breaks, much less doing anything else. Their understanding and support has always meant the world to me, and without it, I couldn’t do what I do.
To my wifeys Rebecca Yarros and Cindi Madsen. I’m not sure how I made it through life before meeting them. They are my rocks and restorers of my sanity. An extra thank you to Cindi who had the time to give me extra help with this book. She made it better than what I could have done alone.
To my agent, Nicole Resciniti, who always has my back and manages to talk me off of ledges on a regular basis. I don’t ever want to be in this business without her in my corner.
To my friend, T, who held me accountable for my middle of the night writing sprints at the end of my deadline. He cracked the whip all the way from the Netherlands and did a damn fine job of it. Also to Paula Reid from Oz who filled in as my virtual cheerleader when T was busy with his own life. (The nerve!)
To Michelle Macrander who read each chapter in the early stages and Jaime Collins who read the rough draft as a sensitivity reader. Thanks for slogging through the typos and brackets to give me such valuable feedback. To Daniela Bonci who helped me with my Italian translations and for her continued support of my books in the “mother country.
To Kat on Twitter who said something that gave me the idea for a certain meet-cute in this book at the charity gala. To Erin McRae who helped me with all things hockey and so much more. To Manda Lee who gave me the perfect song for Emi to dance to in her studio the first time Austin sees her there. To Laura Wright who helped with all things ballroom and ballet related. To Lana Kart for her amazing graphics and friendship. To Wander Aguilar for the gorgeous photo on my cover. To Michelle New for the stunning promo graphics that nailed the feel of this book.
To all of the bloggers and book reviewers out there who work tirelessly for free to get our books into the hands of readers. I appreciate every single shout-out, review, and online squee for my books. A thousand thank yous.
To everyone at Entangled Publishing who continues to work hard to put out my books.
And special thanks to all the members of my Maxwell Mob who are there for me, cheering me on and supporting me, day after day. I love you guys so hard. And if I missed anyone who helped me in any way with this book, I am so sorry. It’s difficult to keep track of all the wonderful people who have even the smallest influence on my writing, but please know I appreciate you immensely.
About the Author
Gina L. Maxwell is a full-time writer, wife, and mother living in the upper Midwest, despite her scathing hatred of snow and cold weather. An avid romance novel addict, she began writing as an alternate way of enjoying the romance stories she loves to read. Her debut novel, Seducing Cinderella, hit both the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists in less than four weeks, and she’s been living her newfound dream ever since.
When she’s not reading or writing steamy romance novels, she spends her time losing at Scrabble (and every other game) to her high school sweetheart, doing her best to hang out with their teenagers before they fly the coop, and dreaming about her move to sunny Florida once they do.
You can find her and all her online homes at www.ginalmaxwell.com.
Gina L. Maxwell, Merciless
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