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cool on her skin, and she shivered.
    “You know I have a place open for you two. Don’t let your fear of me put your mother on the street.”
    She wanted to say she wasn’t afraid, but it was patently untrue. She wanted to say she had friends and places to turn to other than him, but she didn’t—not for a place to live. Not on such short notice. Meanwhile, he continued speaking, his voice low and mesmerizing.
    “You are right to be afraid of me. I am a dangerous man. I have killed men and women without a second thought. But I want you, my Wendy. And when your brother was a fool in my club, I seized on the opportunity to pull you to my side.”
    So it was true. He had used Bernard to get to her. “I am nothing,” she whispered.
    “You are a very great deal. Smart, beautiful, and talented. Better yet, you have a practical nature. You see the shadows and don’t judge those who are caught in them.” He tugged her toward him, and she found herself powerless to resist.
    “I don’t judge them. But you are the one who creates those shadows,” she said, her voice tight with disdain.
    He arched a brow. “You don’t seriously believe me to be that powerful. I am merely a man. And one who wants you very much.”
    Her breath caught. Never had she allowed herself to be this near him. Tight enough to smell the mint of his breath above the harsher scents of tobacco and wine. Close enough to feel goose bumps prickle her skin as her knees grew weak and her nipples pulled tight.
    “Look deeper into me, Wendy. See me for the man I am, not the image I project to survive.”
    “No,” she whispered. Or she thought she did. She wasn’t sure, as it wasn’t a loud word. It certainly had no power to stop him as he closed the distance between them.
    He took her mouth, slanting across the lips that he’d already prepared with his thumb. She trembled in his arms as his tongue slipped between her teeth. She was a woman unfamiliar with kisses. In truth, she’d rarely felt a man’s touch, and that was usually her brothers’ rough hugs. To have two such kisses in one day confused her. To be held in the arms of a man who terrified her was in equal parts horrifying and exhilarating. He wasn’t hurting her, and yet his arms tightened around her, and his mouth took control. She had little choice but to obey the orders of his body.
    He taught her what to do with her tongue, growling in approval when she began to thrust and parry with him. She felt him shift so that she was pressed backward against the railing, while his body pushed at her from the front. She felt the hard planes beneath his clothing. And she knew enough to be startled by the thick swell against her groin, especially as he pushed it against her in a frighteningly explicit rhythm.
    It was that movement that pushed her from arousal into alarm. She tried to break away, but she was trapped. The railing bit into her back, and there was no compromise from Damon in the front. In fact, when she pushed at his chest, he seemed to grow more powerful, more dominating. His mouth slanted harder across hers. His tongue pushed in with more frenzy. And below—sweet heaven—below he was big and aggressive.
    Rubbing her up and down with his thick cock, his desire drew a whimper from her. She was trapped, and all her struggles inflamed him. Her senses swirled, her fists beat him, but she might as well have been pounding at stone. It didn’t end until he pulled away. Until he eased back enough that she could twist her face away. But his body was still pressed so tight against hers that she could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
    “No,” she said. This time her voice was louder and stronger.
    “Come to my room,” he whispered, his own breath short. “I will treat you as a queen.”
    Her back seriously hurt, arched as she was halfway over empty space. She pushed at his chest, and this time he grudgingly eased back.
    “I am not a high flyer,” she said. She could not bear to look