Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

The thread of conversation slipped from my fingers the moment he touched me, so I’m surprised
when he leans in and murmurs intimately, “Ah, that’s where you’ve misunderstood me. I don’t believe
everyone is mine to torment. Only you.”
I can scarcely draw a breath, but I don’t want him to know how much he has thrown me. “Oh, so
I’m special. Am I supposed to feel flattered?”
His lips touch the side of my neck just below my ear. The kiss sends a shiver down my spine and
I try to break free from his grasp.
He’s not holding tight, so I’m able to escape, but the whole temple feels suddenly smaller. The
room we’re in claustrophobic even with the doorways open.
I walk to the other side of the porch to check out the engravings, but now that he’s touched me,
I’m anxious to leave. Now I’m thinking about the car ride home, whether he’ll even take me to my
home or if we’ll go straight to his. I don’t want to go to his penthouse. I don’t want to be forced to
spend another night with him. I only promised one more date, not necessarily anything else, but I
know the chances of going home untouched are miniscule.
I feel trapped by more than just the temple walls, but I think it’s the sandstone structure making
me feel so claustrophobic.
“I’m finished,” I tell him, hoping he won’t want to stay longer.
Calvin lifts his dark eyebrows. “We haven’t even stepped inside the first room yet.”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to.” Last time I was here we waited in line to check out the porch
room and we could look into the interior temple rooms, but no one was actually allowed inside.
Calvin walks under the lovingly engraved doorway, lifts his pointer finger to his lips as if to say,
“Shh,” then steps into the next room.
My eyes widen and my heart plummets. I glance back at the guard outside, but he still isn’t really
watching us. Perhaps he thinks anyone willing to shell out however much money to rent this temple
for a private dinner will be more respectful of the place than a slew of tourists would be, but he
clearly doesn’t know Calvin Cutler.
“Calvin,” I whisper furiously, ducking my head into the next room, but not crossing the threshold.
“You can’t be in here. It’s not allowed.”
Since no one is meant to enter, the interior rooms aren’t as well-lit as the porch was. Light from
the porch streams in, but the first room is dimmer, the second room darker than that one.
Crossing the threshold into that next room isn’t something I’m at all comfortable with, but I’m
worried the guard will come over to check if he glances over and realizes he no longer sees us on the
porch. I shouldn’t care at all if Calvin gets in trouble for his wrongdoing, but my rule-following
instincts compel to make sure everyone in my party is doing what they’re supposed to, and tonight,
that’s Calvin.