Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

His face doesn’t register surprise—or anything else, for that matter. As if he’s never heard the
name before, he asks levelly, “Who?”
“My date. Lance Matthews. The man who was shot last night.”
Calvin smiles, but it’s not a nice smile. He places his fork down and looks across the table at
me. “Do you think it’s wise to keep trying to provoke me, Hallie?”
No.
I don’t say that. I look down at my plate as I spear one of the last pieces of chicken and swirl it
in the remaining teriyaki sauce. “I’m only forced to be here. I never said anything about being
pleasant. If you’d like pleasant company for dinner, I would suggest inviting a woman who wants to
be here with you. You’re well aware I don’t.”
He shakes his head faintly. “Oh, I’ll have pleasant company. And it will be exactly the woman I
desire. You’re the only one who will suffer if you choose to be a brat. I’ll have fun either way.”
I wait, silent, hoping he will say more. A pit of dread opens in my stomach at the notion of
suffering at his hands, particularly given what I know about his appetites.
“What does that mean?” I finally ask, after letting my mind wander for a few moments.
This time, he gets to give me the silent treatment.
Mine didn’t seem to faze him, but his is agonizing. As he sits there not saying another word
throughout dinner, I consider all the different ways he could punish me. Not just sexually, either. I
suppose if I don’t play his game the way he wants me to, he has already proven he’s not hesitant to
hurt people in other ways. He compiled a dossier on my best friend’s sins. He shot a man I barely
even know because he took me out on a date.
I’m not playing on fair ground, here.
It’s not remotely fair to make me play nice, but I suppose none of this is fair.
“Can we come up with some rules of civility?” I request.
He glances at me but doesn’t answer, so I go on.
“It just seems like maybe we should have rules, that way we both understand what’s expected of
us and where the limits are.”
“I had a man shot, Hallie. There are no limits.”
My horrified gaze shoots to Chef Ryan, but the man is dishing out ice cream, unfazed by
whatever he may or may not have just overheard.
Noticing my gaze, Calvin says, “He’s worked for worse men than me, Hallie. Stop waiting for
him to be horrified. It’s not going to happen.”
He’s used my name twice in about a minute, leaving me with the impression I might be annoying