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pulled up at an open clearing that overlooked a winding brook. The headlights swiveled past a fancy tent. One of his servants stood at the flap opening, a warm glow emanating from within.
    Clayton parked and waited for me at the front of the car, holding out his hand and grinning like he had a secret. I let him take my hand and guide me to the tent entrance. The servant held open the canvas door.
    “Thank you, Renald. You’re dismissed for the night.”
    The man bowed without saying a word and disappeared toward a dark sedan parked in the shadows.
    “This is lovely, Clayton.”
    Candelabras were set out and lit around the interior, basking a golden glow on the quilt, pillows, and a feast set out like an extravagant picnic at the tent’s center. Soft music played from somewhere.
    “I thought you’d like this.”
    Guilt slapped me in the face upon seeing the display. He probably had planned this all week while I hadn’t given him a second’s thought.
    Get your mind straight, Ella.
    Clayton guided me over and helped me down to the blanket. Wine chilled in a silver pitcher. He knew I didn’t drink. A twinge of trepidation tingled up my spine.
    “Wine?”
    He popped the cork and poured me a half-glass, handing it over.
    “Just a little.” Another odd smile.
    Oh, crap! Was he going to propose?
    My heartbeat double-timed in fear. I took the glass, needing that sip. Needing it all. He busied himself, lifting the tops from silver platters, all with delicious finger foods—scallops, puffed pastries, small sandwiches.
    I took a plate and ate in silence. My senses were on high alert. Clayton usually talked non-stop about nothing in particular. Tonight, he was unnaturally quiet. I sipped more wine, the unusual sensation of alcohol tingling through my limbs. For once, I relished the buzz.
    After eating, he moved to my side of the blanket, stretching his legs out beside me.
    “Here. You didn’t try the chocolate strawberries.”
    To my horror, he held one up to my lips. He’d never fed me before. It was so intimate, so odd. He smiled and waited. I opened my lips and took a bite.
    “Mmm. I like to watch you do that.”
    What did he just say?
    I glanced down, swallowing the small bite and hoping he’d move away. Not a chance. His lips were on mine, hard and insistent. Though not very tall, he was lean and strong, maneuvering me under him with one swift move. I made a sound of surprise, which he took for encouragement, flattening me on my back. His tongue plunged in, his lips overlapping mine. A sloppy kisser, he always dove in with too much enthusiasm as if trying to win a race. It was so unnerving. I’d tried to slow him down before, to guide him in a steady rhythm, but no use. He just plowed ahead, slobbering all over my mouth. I pulled away, needing a breath.
    “Oh, Ella.”
    He kissed down my neck, unbuttoning my blouse. I’d let him go this far before, but something in me wanted him to stop this time. Another part of me argued he was my boyfriend. I was supposed to want him to do this. I was supposed to please him.
    He yanked down my bra strap and sucked on my breast, slobbering all over me there, too. Ugh. This wasn’t pleasant. How did women like this? Gross.
    “Clayton,” I breathed, pushing slightly on his shoulder.
    He unzipped my jeans. Oh, crap! He raised his face to mine, his eyes wild with lust before he attacked my mouth again, his tongue thrusting in. His fingers pushed aside my jean flaps and dove under my panties while he still kissed me hard. He pressed his chest to mine, groaning as he frantically probed between my legs where he never had before.
    I tried to calm my nerves, but every part of me screamed for him to stop. He released my mouth.
    “You’re bone-dry, baby. That’s okay. I can help with that.”
    He pulled his hand out of my pants and licked his fingers. Nausea swept through me as he went to plunge back in.
    “No, Clayton.”
    I grabbed his forearm, but he pushed down anyway, trying to