The Vanity of Roses - Lily White Page 0,67

cocked a brow.

“I-I’m not going in there for you to-“ Her voice trailed off, and I almost laughed at her assumption.

Lacking the patience to deal with this shit, I wrapped an arm beneath her shoulders and her legs to carry her. She started to fight, but was too small in my hold, her body barely able to move when I cradled her close and locked my arms.

“Stop flattering yourself, brat. I’m not taking you back there to do whatever it is you think. But I’ll be damned to have you bleeding all over my fucking floors. You’ll be the one cleaning it up, by the way.”

Her fear switched to anger, and I almost laughed. What the hell was she going to do about it? Kick and scream? There wasn’t a single person in this mansion who would help her.

We approached my bathroom and I kicked the door open, walked in and set her on the counter. She moved to jump down when I walked away, and I didn’t bother turning back for her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not?”

Pulling a first aid kit from a cabinet, I spun to face her. Lisbeth had one foot barely touching the floor, her body set to take off if her curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of her.

“Because I’ll chase. And it will only excite me more.”

Hesitation took her over, body still, eyes wide and unblinking. Casting her gaze down to the box in my hands and back to my face, she made her decision. I never claimed Lisbeth was unintelligent. She settled back onto the counter because she knew she was beat. Smart girl.

Stepping up to her, I set the kit on the counter, flipped the lid and rummaged around for antibacterial ointment and a bandage.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m sick of you bleeding in my room.”

Glancing up, I grabbed her cheek, not missing how she flinched away from my touch. Eventually, understanding took hold, and she moved her face so I could have a better look at her chin. It was only a minor cut, nothing that wouldn’t heal within a day or two.

I looked away to wet a washcloth beneath the faucet, her voice floating into my thoughts again.

“Not this. I mean, why are you treating me this way?”

Quiet laughter shook my shoulders. “Do you need to ask that question?”

She danced with bravery, her little pink tongue forming words that were sandpaper against my nerves. “Are you really still so hurt about what happened when we were kids that you can’t let it go?”

My eyes snapped to hers as I wiped the blood from her skin. I would bite that tongue in punishment if I could trust myself to stop before I damaged her too much.

“If so, I apologize.”

My brow cocked again, hatred blending with anger until it was a toxic stew. I snatched her chin between my fingers and squeezed until she winced. Her eyes locked to mine with the same toxicity blazing behind them.

“Don’t apologize for things you’ll never be able to fix.”

Yes, I still hated her for the shit she caused when I was young, but what she owed me could never be repaid. Not unless she had some magical ability to rewind time and give me back my mother.

“I can’t change the past,” she yelled.

Our eyes met, and I dared her to creep into my thoughts again. Except when I thought those full lips would form more words that I would hate, she slammed them closed instead.

Holding her face still, I smoothed on the ointment and slapped a small bandage over the cut.

“Let me go,” she begged, her voice a bare whisper as I packed the supplies back into the box. “You’ve made your point.”

Stepping closer to her, I pinned the bitch in place, my hips spreading her thighs apart, my chest rubbing against the tips of her breasts. Her body shivered, and I grinned because I knew it was my touch that caused it.

“I haven’t even begun to make my point.”

Our stares were locked in a battle of wills, our breath mingled, our hearts beating drums.

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“The feeling is mutual,” I promised, “but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck.”

Lisbeth gasped, her eyes dropping to my lips to trace their shape. She could lie all she wanted, but I knew that look, knew that the electricity arcing between us was as much from her body’s reaction as it was from mine.

My hand moved faster than she could react, fingers

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