Page 128 of The Sinner's Bargain

I sank my face into the curve of his neck and let the soft crackle of the fire, the easy rhythm of his breathing soothe me.

I would have stayed there for the rest of my life, surrounded by his scent and warmth if the subtle little knock hadn’t interrupted our peace.

“Ignore it,” Thoran murmured into the hollow at my temple.

I chuckled. “You can’t. What if it’s important?”

“It’s not.” But he sighed, pressed a kiss to the spot and shouted for the person to come in.

I tried to rise as the door opened, but he held me there, firm and possessive, and I didn’t try to fight it.

“Cooke wants to know where you would like supper,” Cyrus said, eyes fixed on the fire.

Thoran peered at me. His eyebrow raised. “Bed?”

Amused by his teasing, I shook my head. “The dining room is fine.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine.” He turned to Cyrus. “Tell Cooke we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

With an inclination of his head, Cyrus closed the door once more, leaving me with the man stealing strips of my sanity with every brush of his fingers across my cheek and down the line of my neck. That simple caress awakened nerve endings I didn’t even know I possessed.

“We should get ready,” I panted, hyper aware of the goose bumps scattering across my entire body. My nipples tingled, tightening inside the lace cup of my bra.

Thoran hummed meditatively, replacing his skirting digits with his lips. “Naya.”

“Hm?” I moaned, head tipping back, offering the lion my jugular.

“My Naya.” His tongue dipped into the hollow of my throat. “My sweet Naya.”

No matter how many times he drawled my name, hot waves of ecstasy coursed through me. I would listen to him until my last breath and still never get tired of it.

“Will—?”

Another knock filled the space. Interrupted the hand he was sneaking under my top.

“Jesus Christ, Cyrus! We fucking know,” he shouted.

“Handley’s at the door.”

The name prickled something at the back of my mind, but it wasn’t until Thoran snarled in his throat and muttered, “Jeannette,” that it finally clicked into place.

The sheriff.

A police officer who would ask questions I couldn’t answer. Plus, I held a piece of glass to a woman’s neck and threatened to kill her entire family.

“Thoran?” I whispered, heart in my throat.

Thoran kissed my brow. “He’s not going to touch you,” he promised.

That hadn’t been my only concern, but I knew to voice the others would raise questions I couldn’t answer.

Thoran was already helping me to my feet. His large hand closed gently over my mummified one and he brought the fingertips to his lips once before leading me from the room.

In the foyer, he stopped at the base of the stairs and faced me. “Go up and prepare for dinner. Stay there until I come get you, okay?”

I nodded and got a kiss before I made my way up. At the top, I glanced back to find Thoran watching me. His amber eyes bright in the dimness. They were the last thing I saw before I rounded the corner and stopped.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Thoran to handle the situation, but I couldn’t just hide in my room and wait for my fate.

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