Chapter 2: The Predator's Game

POV RUBY

The interior of the SUV felt like a luxury cell, permeated with Nevan's scent: an intoxicating mixture of expensive tobacco, rain, and something deeper, something purely masculine that turned my stomach in a way I refused to admit. I sat as far away from him as possible, pressed against the door, watching the raindrops slide down the tinted glass as if they were crystal tears.

"It won't do you any good to try to melt into the door, Ruby," his voice broke the silence, low and raspy, laden with an amusement that made me clench my teeth. "I don't bite. Unless you ask me to, of course."

I turned my head sharply, giving him my most contemptuous look.

"You're a maniac. You kidnapped me, tied me up, and now you're mocking me. You disgust me, Nevan. Every time you touch me, I feel like I need to shower with bleach."

Nevan let out a soft laugh, a sound that vibrated in the air and, much to my chagrin, sent a treacherous shiver down my spine. It wasn't an evil laugh, but that of someone looking through a mask. He stopped the car at a red light and slowly turned to face me. The red light from the dashboard illuminated his harsh features, making the scar on his eyebrow seem deeper, more dangerous.

"Disgust?" He repeated the word as if he were savoring it. "How curious. Because a few minutes ago, when I had you against the gallery door, your heart wasn't beating with disgust. Your pulse was racing. And your pupils... they were so dilated that they almost erased the beautiful green of your eyes.

"It was terror," I hissed, though I felt my cheeks beginning to burn. "Any rational person would be terrified if they were assaulted by an armed psychopath."

Nevan leaned over the center console, invading my space with deliberate slowness. I didn't back away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but my fingers dug into the leather of the seat. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a physical presence so dominant that it seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the car.

"Terror is cold, Ruby," he murmured, his gaze dropping for a second to my lips before returning to my eyes. "But you were burning up. You were so hot I could feel it through my clothes."

"You're arrogant," I replied, though my voice came out a little weaker than I intended. "You're nothing but a mercenary with a God complex. I feel nothing for you but disgust."

He smiled, a sideways, wicked, flirtatious smile that gave him the air of a modern pirate. He reached out a hand and, before I could pull away, caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers. His skin was rough, but his touch was as light as a feather. The contrast made me shiver. Inside, a liquid fire ignited in my belly, an electric pulse screaming at me to throw myself at him, to stop pretending. I hated myself for it. I hated that my body was a traitor that understood neither logic nor morality.

"You say you hate me, but you bite your lip when I look at you," he whispered, moving a little closer, until his breath, with a slight taste of mint and smoke, caressed my face. You say I disgust you, but you're holding your breath right now, waiting to see what I'm going to do.

"Go to hell," I whispered, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the intensity of his gaze.

"I'm already in hell, beautiful. That's why I brought you with me.

Nevan released my cheek, but instead of moving away, his hand slid down my neck, tracing a slow line until it stopped just above the top of my chest. I could feel the weight of his palm, the promise of a much deeper caress. My breathing became erratic. My mind screamed "run," but my legs felt heavy, anchored to him by a gravitational pull I couldn't break.

"Your body is much more honest than your mouth, Ruby," he said, starting the car again when the light turned green. His tone was casual again, almost carefree, as if he hadn't just turned my world upside down. "You can say all the horrible things you want to me. You can call me a monster, a kidnapper, an animal... but we both know you like me being an animal."

"That's not true!" I exclaimed, my voice sounding too high-pitched. "You're an egomaniac!"

"If you say so..." he hummed, turning on the radio. Soft, dark, sensual jazz music filled the cabin. "But remember one thing: at the cabin we're going to, there will be no one else. Just you, me, and all those truths you're trying to hide under that torn silk dress."

I turned back to the window, trying to calm the fire I felt between my legs. I clasped my hands in my lap, hating the dampness I was beginning to feel, hating the way my nipples had hardened under the thin fabric. Nevan was right, and I despised him for it. I despised him for being able to read me so easily, for knowing that even though Julian Vane was the one who wanted to kill me, Nevan was the one who was really going to destroy me.

The journey continued in an electrically charged silence. Every time he changed gears, his arm brushed lightly against my knee, and every time, I feigned a look of disgust while my insides melted. Nevan kept stealing glances at me, that half-smile etched on his face, enjoying my silent torment.

"Do you know what I like most about you, Ruby?" he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the air like a silk knife.

"I don't care," I lied blatantly.

"That you're an excellent art restorer. You know how to see the beauty in broken things, in old and dark things." He paused, his gaze fixed on the road. "I wonder if you'll be able to find any beauty in me when we're done tonight. Or if you'll be too busy begging me not to stop."

I felt a spasm of pure desire run through my body. The audacity of his words was insulting, shameful, and yet the mental image they evoked took my breath away. I forced myself to look at my hands, visualizing my laboratory, my brushes, anything that would bring me back to reality.

"I would never ask you for anything, Nevan," I said with all the firmness I could muster. "I'd rather die."

"Oh, you're not going to die, Ruby," he replied, turning the car onto a dirt road surrounded by dark trees. "I'm going to keep you very, very alive. So alive that you'll wish you'd never felt anything at all."

The SUV stopped in front of a cabin that seemed to be swallowed up by the shadows. Nevan turned off the engine, and the silence became absolute, broken only by the constant pounding of rain on the metal roof. He turned to me, and this time there was no flirtation in his eyes, only a dark and absolute promise.

"Welcome home, beautiful. I hope you're ready to stop pretending."

He got out of the car without waiting for an answer, leaving me there, trembling with rage and an excitement that burned inside me. I knew that when I crossed that threshold, Ruby Lane would cease to exist, and that the woman who came out of there would irrevocably belong to the man who had just opened the door for me.