Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

Shaking it off and telling myself to be sensible, I gather the bottom of my gown so I can climb out
of the car without tripping on it. If anything, my conflicted feelings solidify the fact that I desperately
need to never see this man again. He’s scrambling my mind, and the sooner our last night is done, the
better.
Calvin offers his arm once we’re both out of the limo. I don’t want to take it so I walk past,
pretending not to notice he did. I don’t have to pretend to be distracted by the grandeur of The
Metropolitan Museum of Art. Lifting my skirt, I begin to ascend the steps alone, but my heart sinks
when I’m yanked backward and fear grabs hold of me.
My heart expects to plummet backward down the steps, but instead a strong arm settles around
my waist. Calvin yanks me into his side a bit forcefully, then slides me a sideways look of censure.
“In case you were wondering, it wasn’t a mere suggestion when I offered you my arm.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. The tone of his voice and the stiffness of his posture lets me know I’ve
insulted him and floods me with an insane need to apologize. I could lie and pretend I didn’t see the
arm he offered, but I know that would only further irritate him.
I shouldn’t care if I irritate him, but a pit opens up in my stomach and seems to insist that I do.
Damn my good manners.
Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I glance over at him, but I can’t bring myself to apologize.
I feel like I should, but I also feel like that would be crazy. I’m at odds with myself, so I don’t say a
word.