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A dark, chilling romance. Fall in love with the ultimate bad guy.
Like everyone else after the economic crash, Abby Torrance was struggling financially. But then Dorian Lincoln, a political and business icon, sweeps her off her feet and into a life of promise. He’s a man who has enough power to change the world for the better, a man who can give hope to the masses, a man who can give Abby a baby.
But the road to Hell is paved with good intentions and Abby is having strange dreams that seem both a warning and a prophesy. How can she give the evil undertones of her dreams any notice when she’s busy focusing on conceiving?
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EXCERPT:
The nighttime air
bit at my skin as thoughts of him chomped at my brain. He’d polluted me like a
poison that spread throughout my mind and body, seizing every thought, leaving
no rest. I loved horror movies and yet I couldn’t recall a single scene. Jimmie
kept glancing at me, concern etching his face all the way through the
ninety-minute show.
Soon Jimmie and I
walked out of the theater, my hand resting in the crook of his elbow.
Bitterness raged inside, heating my face against the breeze when I saw the limo
roll toward us. He found me like he always said he would, but three fucking hours late.
I knew I wasn’t
Dorian’s top priority, and I’d made some progress at keeping my jealousy under
control, but no woman wanted to be shoved to the side every time it was
convenient for a man. I tightened my grip on Jimmie’s sleeve and pulled him
along just as the driver stepped into our path. I gave the chauffeur a
shotgun-glare as he motioned me to the car. “Miss Torrance, Mr. Lincoln is waiting.”
My heart skipped
ten beats, I couldn’t tear my eyes away when the dark window lowered and Dorian
tousled his ebony hair with his fingers. He wasn’t in his usual attire, a
business suit. Tonight he presented himself in casual wear. His sharp, handsome
features were expressionless.
I closed my eyes,
digging deep for the strength to tell him to get lost for standing me up, but I
knew the words would never make it past my lips. I was a fool to entertain the
thought. One look from those black eyes sifted me like wheat. Dorian
practically owned me. That man was my
tempter and my savior wrapped into one.
I met him at the
lowest point of my life, after my mother died of cancer. The three jobs I was
working to keep my head above water and pay off her medical bills were about to
do me in physically. While I was waiting tables at the country club, Dorian
swooped in from out of nowhere and rescued me like an injured bird. His amazing
sixth sense alerted him that life was too much for me, and he offered me a
strong shoulder to cry on. The floodgates opened and I unloaded my personal
problems. Dorian Lincoln promised those problems would disappear with a simple
acceptance of his proposition: give him power over my body, something Bianca
wouldn’t allow.
Lifting my palm to
Jimmie’s cheek, I smiled. “Thanks for the movie. I’ll call you next week.”
“He’s a prick. You
deserve better, Abby!” Jimmie yelled, as I eased myself inside the limo.
Dorian opened a
small refrigerator under the seat, his hands cupping the base of a champagne
glass. “You’ve wasted no time finding another way of entertaining yourself this
evening.”
“You wasted no
time in standing me up,” I scoffed.
When I left his
office that afternoon, Dorian said he wanted me for some ‘quality time.’
Eight-thirty rolled around before I realized he was a no-show. The food got
cold and eventually the long stemmed candles I lit for dinner burned out, along
with my patience.
“Meetings...clients,”
he said.
Top secret
meetings and clients were always the excuse. The coldness in his voice was a
sword to my heart, a reminder of my temporary ranking in his life. I held on
tight to his promise of our relationship becoming more when the time was right.
His stony
expression broke into a devious grin. “You look beautiful in that dress and
your enthusiasm is charming. But watching you masturbate will reimburse me,
Miss Torrance.”
My stomach dropped
and quivered as I pressed my thighs together. He was going to punish me.
I tugged at the
straps of the red shoes he’d bought me, eyeing him as he sipped from the flute
and moved his gaze toward the window. Overtaken by the need to be the object of
his fascination, I almost begged him to turn those onyx eyes back on me. His
attention was the only thing that kept me from going under.
“Dorian, please
I-”
My words were cut
off with the sharp turn of his head. Relief came in a warm caress, but
suspicion moved in with a lift of his brow. The small amount of light coming
through the tinted windows deepened the masculine angles of his face, lending
them a sternness that echoed in his voice.
“No other men. I
thought I was quite clear about that when we discussed the terms of our
agreement, three months ago.”
“Jimmie is just a
friend.”
“Jimmie is a man. A distraction.”
“A distraction
from being pissed. I don’t like being stood up.”
I sounded so
offended, but I had no right. Closing my eyes I regrouped, reminding myself
that I freely agreed to make myself available to him. Dorian kept up his end of
the arrangement. He took care of me, changed my life for the better. My phone
stopped ringing from creditors, he gave me a great job at his company, and I
had food on the table in a fabulous apartment. He seemed to know my every need
before I voiced them. I could push aside my hostility and take his punishment and
occasional negligence.
“You are mine, all
mine.” he announced.
His words,
saturated with power and ownership, sustained my hungry heart. I could hold out
as long as it took, accepting the way things had to be until Bianca was more
emotionally stable, and Dorian could ask her for a divorce. I had waited longer
on losers, lazy assholes who wouldn’t work in a pie factory. This time I had
struck gold.
Reaching over, I
grabbed the seat when Dorian impatiently knocked on the divider and the limo
picked up speed.
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