His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love

The rain was coming down in sheets now, drumming against the roof of the portico.

Damon dismissed the valet with a sharp wave of his hand. A sleek, black Aston Martin DB11 sat waiting, its engine purring like a trapped beast. It was a driver's car, not a passenger's.

He turned to Vesper. The polite facade was gone. He looked dangerous.

"You left in a hurry," he said, his voice low, cutting through the sound of the rain.

Vesper crossed her arms, shivering in the damp air. "I didn't know who you were."

"And if you did?" He stepped closer. He smelled of the rain and that intoxicating woodsmoke scent.

"I... it was a mistake," Vesper whispered, her voice trembling. "I wasn't myself. The champagne..."

Damon chuckled. This time, it sounded genuine. "You have a terrible poker face for a liar."

He noticed her shivering. Without a word, he took off his tuxedo jacket. He draped it over her shoulders. It was heavy, warm, and smelled entirely of him.

"Get in," he ordered.

"My husband is inside," Vesper argued weakly.

"Your husband is a coward who is currently trying to figure out how to hide a baby from me. Get in."

Vesper hesitated, then opened the passenger door and slid onto the leather.

Damon got into the driver's seat. The heavy doors sealed them in. The silence returned, intimate and terrifying.

He turned to her. The dashboard lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the scar on his cheekbone.

"Why did you leave the money?" he asked.

Vesper looked out the window at the rain. "To make it a transaction. Transactions are clean. Emotions are messy."

Damon leaned over. He was close. Too close. He reached out and took her left hand.

His grip was iron. He wasn't wearing gloves now. His skin burned hers.

"I don't do clean," he whispered. "And I don't do married women. Usually."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. He pressed it into her palm.

Her diamond earring.

"I found this in the sheets," he said.

Vesper stared at the diamond in her hand. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet."

His thumb brushed over the sapphire ring on her finger. The Sterling heirloom.

"You want a transaction?" Damon asked. "Fine."

Before she could react, he gripped the sapphire ring. With a smooth, forceful tug, he slid it off her finger.

"Hey!" Vesper gasped, trying to pull her hand back.

Damon held the ring up. "Collateral."

"Give it back," she demanded. "Julian will kill me."

"Let him try," Damon said darkly. He pocketed the ring. "Divorce him, Vesper."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.

"Or what?" she whispered.

"Or I will make your life very complicated." He leaned in, his lips inches from hers. "I want my three hundred dollars back. But not in cash."

He unlocked the doors.

"Get out. Before I change my mind and take you with me."

Vesper scrambled out of the car, clutching his jacket around her, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She watched the taillights of the Aston Martin disappear into the rain, her finger feeling naked and cold without the ring.

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