They were both gasping as his spasms finally faded. Kelly made sure her body twitched occasionally, and she forced herself to relax completely, as if in the aftermath of pleasure.

But, before she could figure out the best way to handle the afterward, Caleb’s elbows buckled, and his weight pressed down on her—warm, sated, damp, and heavy.

And it was horrible. The worst part of the entire experience.

Worse than his kisses. Worse than his possessive, exposing gaze. Worse than his thrusting, or his mouth on her breast, or his hands moving all over her flesh.

Something was utterly unspeakable about the feel of his relaxed, satisfied body on top of her. Kelly tried to think rationally. Tried to plan her strategy, making use of the way he had obviously taken pleasure in her.

But instead she thought of her father.

She pictured her father’s face when he smiled. When he laughed. When he hugged her. When he’d been hiking with her that morning.

She thought about how her father’s little girl had just willfully fucked his murderer.

He was on top of her. All over her. A sweltering, inescapable weight. His cock was softening inside her, and his face was buried in her hair. He was panting. She thought she could even feel his heart beating.

Kelly started to choke.

She saw her father’s body on the ground, his skull half blown out. Blood all over the dirt trail. She felt Caleb’s cock pulsing inside her, heard him grunting out his pleasure.

Unthinkingly, she pushed at Caleb’s shoulders until he pulled out and rolled off her. She had just enough sense to stretch and breathe out, “God, that was good,” as she got more distance from him.

Her head turned away from him, she took deep breaths until the flurry of emotional reaction subsided.

What the hell was the matter with her?

Yes, it had been hard, but she could do this. She wasn’t weak, and he wasn’t going to get away with what he’d done.

Women throughout history had done this very thing. Slept with men who were their enemies. Sometimes constructing elaborate deceptions. Some of which lasted their whole lives. It was possible. There were dozens of precedents she could name.

She could do this too. She just needed to harden herself a little more.

He had lied to the world, so she would lie to him.

He manipulated others, so she would manipulate him.

He thought he was untouchable, so she would make sure he was touched.

If she had to turn into Caleb to beat him, then she could do that.

She would do that.

“You okay?” he asked from beside her.

When she turned back, she saw that he’d taken care of the condom and was now watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face.

She smiled. “Yeah. Seconds usually aren’t that good.” She reached over to brush her fingers over his chest. “Even with a concussion.”

“Damn,” he breathed, his expression changing. “I forgot about the concussion. I thought you seemed a little—”

A flare of panic caused her skin to chill briefly, the fear that she hadn’t deceived him enough. “I seemed what? I thought it was pretty good.”

“It was.” He gave her his familiar, sexy smile. “I wasn’t complaining. Something just felt a little off, and now it makes sense. The doctor told you to rest, and I’m not sure that counts as resting.”

She laughed softly, disturbingly aware that her amusement over his dry tone and ironic expression was real. “Not exactly resting, no. Although honestly, I expected something a little less vanilla from you.”

That got a reaction. He arched his eyebrows. “Vanilla?”

“Missionary under the covers?” She leveled him an obvious, teasing challenge with her gaze. “I expected more from you. What happened to your basement of pleasurable torment?”

He laughed, his eyes warm and appreciative, lingering on her face and naked body. “I told you that was only if you asked very nicely.”

Her breath hitched at the husky texture of his voice, at the tingles of interest it triggered between her legs. She wasn’t going to be upset by this. It was good. It meant he was still interested. He had to keep wanting her if or she would lose her excuse for staying close to him.

And it didn’t matter that she wanted him too.

“Hmm.” She turned on her side so she was facing him. “Somehow, I think you’re the one who’s going to have to ask nicely.”

Her half-seductive, half-challenging tone must have been effective, because he was suddenly over her, his body big and far too warm, his hand cupping her face. “Little blossom, I guarantee you’re the one who’s going to be begging for it.”

A clench of desire tightened and released inside her, flushing her cheeks, warming her skin. She forced herself not to roll away from him to hide her reaction, to rehearse all the reasons she had to hate him.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

“I’ll like it even more when you’re the one who’s begging.”

He was so close his soft laughter wafted against her skin. She was more aroused now than she’d been during sex, and she kept telling herself it was good.

The more her body was into this, the easier this plan would be. She needed to let her body enjoy itself so the rest of her could do what was needed.

It wasn’t a betrayal. It was just good strategy.

Next time, she would make sure she let her body enjoy it more.

Tonight had been a minor defeat, but it was not the end of the war.

So Kelly started to harden herself again, preparing herself for what would come next, for what the next days and weeks would hold for her.

She would have to fuck him again and again. She would have to get him to trust her. She would have to convince him to let down his guard enough, so she could find and reveal his dark secrets. She would have to make sure she was never this weak again.

There was a truth that the soldiers she’d fucked always told her about going to battle.

The first time was always the worst.

Chapter 5

The next morning she woke up feeling better.

The first thing she had to do today was to settle the fact that she would stay with Caleb for the near future. Hopefully he would suggest it again, so she could act like she was caving and finally agree.

She couldn’t trust him to bring it up on his own, though. Even if he wanted to continue having sex with her, he might not want her to make herself at home at his place indefinitely. But she needed to stay here—as close to him as she could get—and he needed to think it was his idea.

Overnight, she’d come up with an idea, so she got up early, put a bathrobe on over the T-shirt she was still wearing, and quietly walked downstairs.

Caleb should be leaving for work in a little while. She just needed to find somewhere he was likely to see her but didn’t look like she was trying to be seen.

She got a cup of coffee as an excuse for being downstairs, thanking Breah—and making sure the housekeeper saw where she was heading from there.

She settled in a small, pleasant sunroom and immediately pulled out her phone.

She started to write an email to herself, repeating the same sentence over and over.

Several minutes passed without any sign of Caleb, and she was starting to resign herself to another failed idea when a voice from the doorway made her jump. “You’re up early.”

Remembering what she was supposed to do, she ducked the phone quickly out of sight into the pocket of her robe. “Yeah,” she said with a smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Caleb was dressed in another suit, looking so sexy and sophisticated that she was momentarily breathless. And more breathless when he walked over with a possessive heat in his eyes.