Throwing myself out of bed after another sleepless night, I wrenched back the curtains and glowered at the dismal weather.
The watery dawn did nothing to inspire either anger or contentment. The sky was grey. Fog looked like haunting ghosts, threading its ghoulish tentacles over the lower woodland of the estate. No birds chirped or sun shone.
Summer had truly abandoned us. The bite in the air shouted ‘go back to bed where it’s warm’ but my brain had no such intention.
I hadn’t relaxed for two days. I’d stared at my phone, determined to text Jethro and trip him into revealing everything he kept secret, only to stare blankly at an empty message.
Now that I knew it was him, my willingness to show so much had gone. Knowledge was power and he had too much of mine already. How could I dig deeper into his mystery while maintaining all of mine?
The answer—I couldn’t. And that made me incredibly nervous. To find out who he truly was, I had to show everything that made me real. And despite the emotional growth spurt I’d endured at the hands of the Hawks, I wasn’t ready to evolve again. I’d lost so much of myself already—how much was I prepared to leave behind before I became a perfect stranger?
“Ah!” I dug my fingers into my hair. I needed a reprieve from my racing thoughts, and I knew exactly how to do it.
Mother Nature’s sudden urge to switch seasons from summer to winter couldn’t stop my itch.
I needed fresh air, and I needed it now.
Racing around my room in the new Weaver quarters where Jethro had made me beg and come apart with his cock deep inside me, I found my black spandex shorts and highlighter pink sports bra. Pulling the clothing on, followed by my sneakers, I quickly smoothed my hair into a bun, and shot from the room.
I hadn’t worn my exercise gear since the morning of the Milan runway show. I’d sprinted until I’d collapsed off the treadmill at the hotel, hoping I could dispel my anxiety enough to hide my stupid nerves and prevent a vertigo spell in front of the press.
It had worked—mainly. Until Jethro arrived, of course.
The moment when I’d set eyes upon him, I’d been done for. He’d been so dashing with his suit, tie, and diamond pin. So perfectly refined with his elegant haircut, chiselled physique, and sculptured lips. Even though his soul was dark, his body had summoned me.
He’d called to me, and like the stupid Weaver I was, I’d followed him blindly.
Now, it’s his turn to follow my whims, my rules.
Jogging down the corridor, my racing mind and temper eased, already reacting to the stress relief I’d sought all my life.
I need him out.
It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to seduce him and make him care for me—not the other way around. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my own games.
Lust was as dangerous as love. Only it was worse because it had the power to make even the worst ideas seem plausible—and even recommended—when a sexual reward was given.
The moment Jethro gave in and kissed me, I’d betrayed more than just myself. I’d betrayed my entire family line and all the Weaver women who’d died before me.
I had feelings for him.
A dangerous softness toward my would-be-killer.
It has to end.
I had to find a way to seduce him…to make him love me, all while I kept my heart frigid and locked away in an ice fortress.
I laughed under my breath. You sound just like him.
Only, ice wasn’t impervious. Ice melted and succumbed to fire.
I’d proven that over the past month.
The house breathed around me with gentle heartbeats only ancient dwellings could have. Spirits of past generations lived in its walls, revenants danced in the drapery, and figments of long forgotten lovers floated through the tapestries.
A grandfather clock tick-tocked as I jogged past, showing the time at six thirty a.m.
After being privy to the business meetings with Kes and the Black Diamonds, I knew the men never got up this early. They worked late, dealing with shipments and the transportation of stones worth more than any dress I could sew. Darkness was their asset, the sun their foe.