Tempted by Deception (Deception Trilogy #2) by Rina Kent

I shudder, and I’m not sure if it’s because of his words or his hold on my hand—or both.

All I’m sure about is that this man is a lot more dangerous than I thought.

“How will you know?”

“Know what?”

“That someone has touched me. Are you going to stalk me?”

He raises a brow.

“Right. You’re doing it already or you wouldn’t have found me here.” I pull my hand from his with more force than needed.

Adrian grabs it again, his hold not brutal but firm enough to crush my fingers against each other.

“That’s the second and final time you pull away from me.”

“People don’t like to touch their stalkers.”

“Is that what you believe, Lenochka? That I’m your stalker?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. Stalkers are cowards who are afraid to get close. Do you see me watching from the shadows?”

“You were. If Ryan hadn’t done what he did, would you have come out or would you have disappeared into thin air like that day?”

“Do I hear hurt, Lia? Were you disappointed that I left?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it in the depths of those beautiful eyes. I can sense it in every shiver of your body. And you know what else your reaction tells me?”

I shake my head, not wanting to listen to him psychoanalyze me. I hate that he’s so observant of my every move and that nothing escapes him. Not even the little things that I’m not aware of.

His voice lowers with a dark, seductive undertone. “It tells me that you were disappointed I left that day. You wanted more, didn’t you? You wanted me to tear into that tight cunt of yours and fuck you into the mattress until my cum covered your every pore while you screamed my name.”

My thighs clench and the familiar sensation of falling into a deep hole grips me. I can feel myself disintegrating, being caught in his web all over again.

Lifting my chin, I gather whatever’s left of my dignity. “I would never let you touch me if it were up to me.”

“That’s why it’s not up to you.”

“I hate you.”

He nods as if he’s suspected that all along. “Understandable. I’d hate me, too, if I were you.”

“Don’t you feel even a sliver of remorse?”

“You desperately want that to be a yes, don’t you? But you already answered your own question when you labeled me a villain. Tell me, Lenochka. Do villains feel remorse?”

I purse my lips. I know what he’s playing at. He wants to make this about me. Since I already picked a name for him, I shouldn’t be surprised by his actions. If anything, I need to expect them and act accordingly. But if he thought he’d get a lamb, that’s far from reality.

Adrian grips my chin and lifts it up with two fingers, forcing me to gaze into his merciless eyes. “Answer my question. Do they?”

“No.”

“Correct.”

“But that doesn’t give you free access into someone else’s life to wreak havoc as you please. To come in as you see fit and get out when it suits you.”

“That’s exactly what the lack of remorse gives me, Lenochka. The freedom to do what I want without feeling that little thing called guilt.”

He really is a monster. There’s no other word to describe the man within. When you’re dealing with someone without any moral compass, it’s impossible to beat him.

But I’m already caught in his trap and I’m more than certain that he won’t let me go. If I fight, he’ll subdue me, and considering his sadistic nature, he’ll probably enjoy it, too.

If I flee, he’ll follow.

To have any chance of winning, I need to start speaking his language. To take as much as I can from him as insurance for myself.

Sucking in a breath, I resist the urge to pull my hand from his and put distance between us, because the more he touches me, the deeper I’m caught in his web and the harder those marionette strings dig into my neck.

“If you get bored of me, will you let me go?” I ask with a calm I don’t feel.

“Probably.”

Okay. I can work with that. His type usually gets bored easily.

They’re thrilled by the chase, the hunt, and the ability to track someone. Catching their prey is only a reward, and once they do, all the fun is over.

I’m not going to play hard to get. I’m not going to let him follow me around, heightening his need to chase. If I want to get rid of him, I need to pretend I’m playing into his hands.

I need to become so boring, that he’ll leave and never return.

But instead of being obvious about it, I whisper, “Tell me something.”

“Something?”

“Anything about you that the world doesn’t know.”

He seems to consider that for a second as he drops his hand from my chin. “Why?”

“Because I want to know you as you wanted to know me.” And I need as much information on him as possible to figure out how to deal with him.

“What makes you think I want you to know me?”

“Isn’t that how these things work?”

“These things?” he repeats with an edge of mockery.

“You know.”