allowed that?
I turn back around. This is a gamble. Ruby makes it look so easy, but she’s been playing with fire for as long as I can remember. There is really no way I can do this without hurting myself.
But if I’m right, he won’t let that happen.
I slide my hand across the polished wood surface until it reaches a pillar. My fingers trace the smooth wax all the way to the curve at the top. I let them follow the heat.
Slowly.
It’s hot now.
I must be millimeters away.
Just a little farther.
An arm grips around my neck and yanks me back.
Adrenaline floods through my body as he pulls me those few steps toward the bed. He releases my neck only to let me fall. My stomach twists, but the landing is soft.
I have no time to recover before I feel him on top of me. Stalking me like a lion stalks his prey.
“That was… foolish. Clever, but very foolish,” he says.
I try to catch my breath through heavy pants. “And that makes… absolutely no sense.”
He lowers his weight down on me, pushing my legs to the side so he can claim the space between them. He’s shirtless, and his body presses hot against mine. “The truest things often don’t.”
I feel his breath warm on my cheeks as he says the words.
For the first time, he is right there.
Not a metal mask. Him.
Slowly, as if I’m again reaching out to stroke the flames of a candle, I bring my hand to his face.
And then the other one.
His jaw is rough, as if he’s not shaved in a little while, but the surrounding skin is soft. I stroke his cheek with my thumb, and since he doesn’t object, I explore farther. Straight nose. Full, soft lips. Heavy eyebrows? It’s hard to tell.
“If you’re quite done with fondling me, can we get on with it?”
I almost laugh at him. His tone says he’s bored, but I know that’s just a guise. If anything, I’m beginning to find it endearing.
“You don’t like to be touched?”
He laughs. “Oh, I like to be touched. Just not used to it on my face, is all.”
I wonder when he was last touched there? If he’s as serious about the disguise as he makes out to be, probably a very long time.
But he cuts me off before I can ask him. “We have business to attend, do we not?”
The boredom is back, and this time it’s dramatic.
I drop my hands from his face and let them settle at the sides of my head. “Business? I am business to you?” I ask playfully.
He makes a hmm sound through his nose, and I feel it on my cheeks. “I think it was you who turned this transactional, was it not? Cold-hearted wench.”
“Wench?” I’m giggling now. I read that word in an old romance book in his office. “What are you, a medieval pirate?”
I can almost picture him grinning. “I’m a fan of those times. Savage and brutal. They had ways of torturing people that would make even me shiver. Fascinating.”
“Sounds… terrifying,” I retort.
His breath gets warmer. He’s leaning down.
I suck in a breath as his hand pushes my hair back from my face.
“Are you scared of me?” he asks. His lips must be only an inch or two away from my face.
“I…” I start to speak before I can think about the answer. That was a mistake. “I —”
He cuts me off with the press of his lips.
It’s soft and… tender.
Not in any way aggressive.
He pulls back, and I feel breathless. Dizzy, even. I can feel my eyelashes against the blindfold as I try to blink through the daze. Thoughts swirl in and out of my mind like smoke. What was that? Why wasn’t he…? Was that all he wanted?
“Think before you speak, sweet girl. I’m feeling especially patient tonight.”
I’m… what was the question? Oh. Am I scared of him…
There is no straight answer to that.
“Sometimes.”
He chuckles. “Well then, I shall have to work harder.”
I’m about to ask him—harder at what? At being less or more terrifying? But I don’t get the chance.
His lips claim mine once more, and this time it’s not a gentle press. This time, he takes my bottom lip into his mouth and presses down with his teeth. A moan escapes me at the shock of it, and his hand goes for my thigh, pulling it up into an arch beside his hard body.
I want to touch him, but I’m frightened.
Scared and curious, all at the same time.
He