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I step out fully, letting the cool night air fill my lungs and chill my exposed skin. The sweet scent of tobacco has me turning my head, and I spot a man stepping out of the shadows like he was made from them, the crisp red cherry of his cigar lighting his face. He looks like the devil standing there half in shadows, eyes lazily taking me in. “Are you following me, Miss Hart?” Damon asks in a low, deep rasp that has heat washing through me. I can’t escape his gaze as I breathe out the word “Hardly.” My body eases a little when he props his back against the wall opposite me and takes a long pull on his cigar, never looking away. My skin tingles where his gaze trails over me. “Torture,” he says, so low I’m not sure I heard him correctly. “What?” He tilts his head to the side, his body turning rigid. “What are you doing back here?” “I can ask you the same thing.” Anyone else, I’d have answered easily, but he just lights something in me, a recklessness that comes forward when he calls. He exhales, smoke surrounding him. “I needed air. Had to get away from a perfect distraction.” What could I even say to that? “Shouldn’t you be in there finding your future wife? Isn’t that what these parties are all about, after all.” My voice is a little too edged to be polite. He runs his tongue along his top teeth before taking another drag of his cigar. “Who do you think I should marry?” I shrug. “I’m sure you could marry any of them.” “What if I don’t want them?” he asks. “From what I heard, you don’t have a choice.” He seems to be processing that for several moments, and then he pushes off the wall and closes the distance between us. My chest squeezes at his approach. He moves like a predator. Like someone who gets everything he wants. “What if I’ve already made my choice?” My gut twists, and I struggle to keep it off my face. I have no business reacting to that. Instead of answering, I glance at his cigar. “You know those are bad for you.” The corner of his lips lifts, revealing straight white teeth. It makes him look sinister. Damon takes another drag and blows it out against my chest, sending shivers over my suddenly heated skin. When I don’t move, he sucks on the cigar again, this time leaning down until his lips nearly brush mine. My mouth falls open, and he exhales the smoke as I gasp, filling my lungs with his breath. The tobacco burns my throat, and I struggle to suppress my cough. But within seconds, it hits me, softening the world around us as it floats to my head. He repeats the process, and I suck in each of his breaths. He pulls back slowly, looking down at the neckline of my dress, and runs his finger over the edge of the fabric. “Absolute torture.” His gray eyes meet mine. “It’s time for you to go inside.” “What if I don’t want to go inside?” I can’t help the small whine of my words. He gives me that same chilling smile. “It’s not safe out here. You never know who you’ll meet.” 🖤 GET IT HERE: https://amazon.com/dp/B0CV5XHQ33