hair back from my face, I watched his eyes grow dark. I watched the lines of his expression sharpen as I rolled my shoulders back and straightened my spine because he wouldn’t succeed in wrecking me.
Not like I had wrecked him.
Grabbing the broom and dustpan, I crawled along to sweep up the broken glass, the flowers and their delicate petals. The spilled water soaked my knees as I moved to grab all the fallen candlesticks and everything else. Because I would do the best damn job with pride.
I was a Rose.
Not a weed. Not some wreck of a woman he could crush beneath his boot.
He would never take that from me.
Facing him, I glanced at the last candlestick that had rolled across the floor, its silver surface shining near the foot of the couch. Callan’s stare followed my line of sight, his mouth curling in a dare as his gaze lifted back to me, thick, dark lashes framing whiskey eyes.
Fuck him, I thought. Two could play his games.
He must have forgotten the way he’d followed me around when we were kids, must not have realized I’d always known when he was watching.
He could watch me now. And he could want something he’d never have.
I crawled with my eyes locked to his without shame.
My body straight, my pride in place.
And all he could do was stare.
The memory of our childhood a bitter pill to swallow.
Callan
The expression on Lisbeth’s face said it all.
You won’t hurt me.
You won’t knock me down.
You’ll never own me, even if you make me crawl.
We’d see about that.
The woman may have the face of an angel and a body built for sin, but what she didn’t have was the good sense not to wave her red flag in front of a bull.
She only made herself a challenge. One I was more than happy to accept.
While I kept my expression as neutral as possible, Lisbeth attempted to seduce me in the line of her body. In the way she held her head high while approaching me on hands and knees.
It was too bad for her she didn’t understand just how dangerous this game could be.
As soon as she reached for the candlestick near my leg, I moved my foot to crush her fingers against the silver, her pretty mouth falling open as the sole of my boot held her hand in place, my ankle turning just enough to grind the skin.
She whimpered, and those blue eyes flicked up to me. I expected her to fight. Instead, she relaxed her shoulder despite the pain, her arm going limp in front of her.
Still holding her hand in place, I leaned forward to whisper, “Did you want to come closer? I’m not sure you understand the game you’re playing.”
If Lisbeth’s eyes had been daggers, she’d just stabbed me a thousand times. Every one catching me in the heart. As if the organ still beat to hear her name. As if it would be so easy to fend me off.
She would never learn, would she?
Not unless I raised the stakes.
“If you’re so damn brave,” my foot ground down harder, “if you think you can keep your chin up no matter what I do, then keep crawling my way. We’ll see who wins this fight.”
Her eyes narrowed, that pretty mouth falling open on words that only cemented her fate.
“Fuck you. I’m doing what you asked. You never told me I should be crying while doing it.”
My hand struck out to grip Lisbeth’s dress and pull her forward. She didn’t scream. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t break the stare she held on my eyes. Lisbeth’s body shook with fear as I dragged her near, but you wouldn’t know it from the way she glared at me.
And that - that - could not be tolerated.
I’d already pulled my boot from her hand, and when I had her close enough that our faces were nose to nose, she was kneeling between my legs, her full lips a thin line and her expression a mask of hatred.
Good.
I wanted her to feel everything I’d kept inside for the majority of my life. I wanted her to swallow it down until it festered and boiled inside her like a disease that would never be cured.
My voice came out on a gritty whisper, the delicate scent of her wafting beneath my nose.
“How does it feel to be the one on the ground?”
She didn’t respond, didn’t open that pretty mouth again to challenge me with bitter words. But then, she didn’t need to. Not