end, crossed my legs, and smiled. I snatched the champagne, taking another long sip. The bubbles were starting to go to my head, which was good.
I heard a creaking of the floorboards. Zahra, come to save me?
But before I could explore that fantasy too deeply, the door opened.
And in walked one of the tallest men I’d ever seen, his face shrouded by a cloak.
Only his piercing gray eyes penetrated the shadows, and I felt goosebumps rise over every inch of my skin.
6
Lila
He towered over the room, dominating everything in it with a tangible power. Beneath his cloak, I caught a glimpse of a sword slung around his waist.
My breath caught, and I found myself standing, unsteady in my heels. While practically my entire body was visible through the sheer robe, he was almost completely hidden. And it was hard to tell with the dark material, but I thought I saw the faint sheen of claret blood on his cloak.
Without realizing what I was doing, I found myself yanking the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around myself. Only the feather stuck out of the blanket, in front of my face.
Possibly his feather.
So I supposed it was a mercy he’d hidden the sex appeal for now. Easier to keep my wits about me.
As he took a step closer, I tried to get a look at his face. I caught a glimpse of a sharp jawline, a full lower lip under that cowl. His shoulders were far broader than a mortal’s, and he exuded a sort of power that tingled over my body.
I swallowed hard.
Bollocks. He was already entrancing me.
He took one more step, and I felt his eyes boring into me—the stormy gray of cloudy skies. My heart seemed to be leaping. Somehow, I felt like everything in the room was going dark except him. And here I was, just staring.
An exhilarating, liquid warmth moved along my throat, pooling in my chest. It took me a moment to realize that his icy eyes were now staring at my neck. And that that was because I’d unconsciously started moving the angel feather back and forth over my skin, while pleasure rippled in its trail. Back and forth, back and forth.
Mortified, I stopped. His body had gone completely still, a brooding silhouette of darkness before me. As for me, I was clutching the blanket around myself, breathing deeply. Neither of us had spoken a word.
I dropped the feather on the bed, my cheeks flashing red.
The count lifted his gaze again to my eyes. Curiosity was unfurling in me, and I found myself taking a step closer, wanting to see more of him.
And I did see more under the cowl—gray eyes flecked with silver, eyelashes black as jet, the high curve of one cheekbone, a sweep of dark eyebrows. Beautiful.
That was when I felt it—the full force of pure power pulsing off him in waves, undulating through my body. It was a magic that seemed to penetrate the blanket, rippling over me, making my skin ache for touch. My thighs clenched. I loosed a deep, shaking breath.
Remember, Lila, that you loathe him. He is a tyrant who executes your countrymen.
“Take it off.” The sound of his deep voice, like a tolling bell, vibrated up the nape of my neck.
I swallowed hard. Even with the blanket on, I somehow felt exposed before him, like those piercing gray eyes could read all my secrets. He smelled like iron, and something sweet like figs.
I dropped the blanket on the floor. I was acutely aware of his eyes on me, and the disturbingly sensual feel of his magic caressing every inch of my bare skin—a tingling heat brushing up the inside of my legs.
My body felt exquisitely sensitive, like I was desperate for him to touch me, to pull off the rest of my clothes. My cheeks were heating.
God, I hated him. I clenched my fists, my fingernails piercing my palms.
Under the cloak, he cocked his head. “When I said ‘take it off,’ I meant your mask. I thought that was apparent. What sort of person wears a mask? Though the blanket was also odd.”
I bit my lip, glowering at him. “I mean, you basically wear both with that cloak.”
“Take it off,” he repeated more firmly.
“Fine,” I said. “Will you take your cowl off, then?”
“No.”
I was already mucking this up, wasn’t I? Of course this wasn’t an equal relationship. “All right.” I pulled the mask off, working hard to school my angry features into a charming smile