question, my body shifting over the mattress to loosen the muscles that were locking in place from lack of movement.
“I am. Thank you. It’s been nice.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, amber eyes assessing me for any chink in my stubborn armor.
His grin stretched.
“I heard you’ve made friends.”
Tilting my chin, I refused to return the smile.
“Your spies are correct. Hope that doesn’t disappoint you too much.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, my attention locking on the small movement.
Callan’s eyes closed and opened, the thick, inky black wash of his lashes dusting over his skin before the piercing whiskey color of his stare bore inside me with the subtlety of a jackhammer. His arrogant grin faded before he spoke again.
“Why did you run?”
Caught off guard by the question, I chewed the inside of my cheek. Why did I run? I’d been asking myself the same thing over the past three days. And rather than tossing out some random lie to appease the situation, I settled on giving him the truth instead.
“So I could tell myself I’d at least tried to escape another prison that was being built around me.”
He pushed away from the door and approached me on slow steps, his hands slipping into the pockets of his black slacks, the shirt he wore doing nothing to hide the fantasy of masculine strength beneath.
I should have hated the arrogance that was as natural to him as breathing. Should have rejected the cruelty that ran as a silver striation through his veins. An intelligent woman would have constructed every defense imaginable against the carnal violence that shone behind whiskey eyes whenever he looked my direction.
But instead, I melted in place, frozen solid while burning so hot, the flames licked at every feminine part of my body.
When I looked at Callan, I didn’t just see a man. I saw the epitome of masculine power. Raw on the surface, brutal in its delivery and utterly mind-bending when the strength of him was positioned between my legs.
My hands itched to reach out and grab hold of the one person who I knew was the worst thing for me.
Stopping when he stood at the side of the bed, Callan reached down to tip a finger beneath my chin and lift my gaze to his.
And while that touch was a tender feather of sensation, it still carried the most harrowing of threats.
“You can never leave,” he said, his voice soft, his tone that of a forgone conclusion I should know already.
He spoke more truth in that simple statement than he would ever know.
Still, a vein of rebellion shot through me, even if that simple touch spread liquid heat between my thighs.
“Why not?”
His lips tilted in a smirk, such raw arrogance pouring out of the expression that I swallowed down the knot threatening to choke me. That look was utter possession, pure victory, undiluted by any fight I might put up against it.
I was beginning to believe he liked it when I fought.
And I’d already accepted that every challenge he tossed at me, I would happily take up whatever sword I had and battle him with the knowledge I would lose.
For some reason, it was the way he defeated me that made me want him more.
“Because I don’t want you to.”
My breath caught at the admission.
Callan’s eyes dropped to my mouth and I shivered beneath the heat behind his stare, the sensual promise.
“And because you don’t want to either.”
His gaze lifted to mine.
“At some point, you’ll have to climb down from your pedestal and admit you love the servant boy.”
Barely able to manage a whisper, I asked, “Then what should I do instead of running?”
The pad of his thumb rubbed softly up the line of my throat, but then he moved his hands so fast I trembled at the speed of it.
Palm locked over my chin, he trapped my cheeks with his fingers and thumb and lifted me up until I was on my knees in front of him.
Squeezing until my mouth fell open, Callan leaned down to brush his mouth against my bottom lip.
“You could do what I’ve done so many times,” he whispered, his eyes pinning mine.
I couldn’t answer him with my mouth held open like it was.
His voice so soft, it was somehow a wicked roar inside me.
“You could surrender.”
Callan’s mouth crashed on mine, tongue driving in to taste and lick, his kiss so slow it was infuriating. And I was helpless to it, his hand still holding me in place, his will dominating mine.