Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

it, but you’re so goddamn earnest. I guess I like playing with my food before I eat it.”
That doesn’t fill me with confidence that he plans to let me leave here untouched.
I swallow, instinctively wanting to reach for the pepper spray, but this isn’t the time.
“Do you remember what we talked about at the wedding?” he asks.
The steadiness of his dark-eyed stare is unnerving. Even as the chef walks over with our salads,
his gaze doesn’t flicker away from me. I’ve never been the object of someone’s undivided attention
like this, and I don’t know how to process it. “I.. Yes, you said that—”
In a bout of utter fucking insanity, perhaps conditioning that runs too deep to be tossed aside
when it clearly should be, I stop talking and my gaze flickers to the chef. I’m horrified to realize I
stopped talking because I didn’t want to say something incriminating about Calvin in front of a
witness, and even more mortified when Calvin realizes the same thing.
He doesn’t say anything right away. He watches me, his intrigue deepening. “Interesting.”
It feels like I’ve swallowed my heart. I open my mouth to object to my own unthinking behavior,
to take it back and explain that I wasn’t looking out for him—that would be insane! But before I can
utter a single word, he goes on.
“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’ve already explained to Chef Ryan that we’re
roleplaying tonight. He won’t take any crazy thing you might say seriously.”
Heat climbing up my neck and blooming on my cheeks, I raise my gaze to Ryan’s, but I feel so
embarrassed. Not for the reason he clearly believes I do, though, as he offers a reassuring smile and a
wink to let me know he’s not judging.
I know I’ve just inadvertently fucked myself. If I had any hope of appealing to him for help, I’ve
just squashed it. Before I might have been able to convince him Calvin is a lunatic who made that all
up to cover what he was actually doing, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t be a lunatic I want to
protect. He might eventually realize maybe I wasn’t kidding—once I’ve been missing for a while and
show up on the news.
“That wasn’t—” I stumble awkwardly over my words. “I didn’t—”
Calvin interrupts. “Have a drink of your wine, Hallie. I already told you that taking advantage of
you while you’re passed out isn’t my kink, didn’t I?”
I don’t know if it’s my awkwardness, not knowing what to do, or the subtle tone of command in
his voice, but I find myself reaching for the glass. I watch him over the rim as I take a sip, but he
doesn’t appear to be impacted one way or the other by my taking a drink. That’s probably a good sign.
“Since you don’t look like you’ve won anything, I suppose that was the right choice,” I murmur.
“I suppose it was.”
I can’t tell if the wine tastes off. It’s a red, and I prefer white.