Page 93 of Diamond In The Rough

Too fucking interested. That’s the problem.

But Bastard sniffs at my overgrown potted aglaonema, lifting his front paw in preparation to dig, and I release Tiia’s supple body and head to him instead.

“Time to get out, mutt.” I move to the door and swing it wide. Then I whistle one, sharp command that has the dog’s head snapping to attention. “Go.” I point to the hall and nod when he does as he’s told. “Get out.”

“You’re mean to animals, too?” Tiia tut tut tuts as I slam the door shut and hit the locks to keep out unwanted visitors. “Red flag city over here, Micah Malone.”

“If you think that’s my red flag,” I chuckle, lacing my hands together and massaging my palm with the opposite thumb to relieve the itch rolling from my missing digit, “I fear you may be a little blind in addition to being partly deaf. We both know the flags are bigger, redder, and more dangerous in other aspects of my life.”

While I remain by the door, a guard, perhaps, to keep her from leaving, she turns to explore my room.

Running the tips of her fingers along the back of the sofa I keep but rarely use, she spies the coffee table in front of it. And close by, the Mongolian chest she wishes was hers. “You’re issuing a warning, then? Are you suggesting you might harm me if I stick around for too long?”

“I’m suggesting you’ll probably get hurt.” Giving up on the fire that rages in my palm, I drop my hands into my pockets and simply watch her. Seeing her in a little dress, exploring my room and beaming amidst the fresh air of plants I propagated and grew on my own—all but that one—feels better than any massage I could give myself. “I’ll protect you,” I promise. “But that doesn’t mean danger won’t come looking, purely because people want to hurt me.”

“Wilkes?”

I snap my teeth closed, gritting my jaw. Then I nod. “Yes. Men like him. He’s not the only one, though. There are countless others who would enjoy taking a chunk out of this family.”

“Which is why you’re happy your other brothers live in Copeland.”

“Keeps them out of the firing line.”

I hate that my stomach twists, equal parts fear and hunger. I want her, but I want to keep her safe. It’s an impossible situation.

One that Felix and Archer have decided to brave.

They would rather die protecting their women than live without them.

“My father made too many enemies in his life.” I lick my dry lips, and hold my breath when she turns and freezes.

Her eyes widen and take in the desk of walnut and leather. The serpentine drawers.

“This is…” Releasing all thoughts of my family’s crimes and enemies, Tiia stalks toward the desk instead and crouches to study the iron handles on the drawers. Her thighs fire up, her calves flex to hold her weight and balance her stance on wedge heels. Then she presses her fingertips to the drawer handle, pulling it open to reveal what I know to be the maker’s seal inside. “How did you…” Frowning, she peeks over her shoulder and searches my eyes. “Mr. Harrison bought this desk.”

“For me.” I play with the knife I keep in my pocket. Not a threat. Just something to touch. Something to expend my nervous energy on as I wander, slowly, closer. “He was purchasing on my behalf.”

“A spy? You sent that man to keep an eye on me?”

“Yes.” I come to a stop just two feet from where she squats. “You tripped my instincts, Tiia. There’s always been something a little off about you.”

“Off?”

“I was wrong about your intentions. But that doesn’t make you any less dangerous in my eyes.” Maybe you’re not here to destroy my family, I want to say out loud. But that doesn’t mean you don’t possess the power to destroy me. “I wanted to see who you were when I wasn’t in the room.”

“So you sent in a spy.” She pushes the drawer back in and straightens her legs. Then turning, she gently leans against the desk, half sitting, half standing. But she meets my eyes, defiant and daring. “What exactly did you discover? Was I the monster you were so sure I was?”

“Obviously not.” I step closer, stopping only when our legs touch. She keeps hers in place, a boundary she’s put between us. But I grab her knees anyway and shove them apart to make room for me.

My cock hardens in response to her gasp of surprise. My stomach flipping when her eyes widen and her pupils darken. I stop only when my chest touches hers, and bring my hands up to cup her face. Then I smirk. “Harrison told me the story of the desk that came across the ocean. The pirate thieves, and the Queen’s intentions.” Leaning closer, I drag her chin up until she can’t stretch any further. Then I take her bottom lip between mine and nibble. “He told me about the Mongolian chest, too.”

Her cheeks color, caught out and guilty.

“I knew of the warrior’s story before you tried to feed me some other shit.”

“You pissed me off.”

A soft, singular chuckle rolls along my throat and out to flutter her hair. “I suspect I piss you off a lot. Which is funny, considering the feeling is often mutual.”

---