Page 62 of The Sinner's Bargain

“I really don’t need—”

“What if you do?” was his continuous argument. “What if you get home and realize you need it?”

Amari was in full support of his methods. She helped add things to the counter until I was too overwhelmed to argue.

“I don’t think I can even wear all of this,” I told him as he let Amari swipe his card and stuff the thirty-foot-long receipt into a bag.

“You’ll figure it out,” was his sage response.

Some of the bags were stowed away in the trunk but the majority were to be picked up by someone from the house later that afternoon.

“Mr. Lacroix, I—”

The man with the ebony tangles of hair and breathtaking eyes turned to me. The motion was so unexpected it startled the words from my mind when I found myself caught in the full focus of his attention. But he didn’t seem interested in hearing my attempts to convince him to return some of the items, nor was I when his arm curved around my waist, and I was jerked into the hard length of his front.

I almost gasped, hands flying to his broad shoulders for support. It was there, wedged in my throat along with his name but it was obliterated by the shattering of time when his head bent dangerously close. The perfectly crafted folds of his mouth lingered over mine, so close I felt the whisper of his breath prickle across my skin.

Our eyes held under the canopy of the umbrella, the rain a distant patter in the background.

God help me, but I wanted him. The how was unclear, but I wanted something so deeply and profoundly, I ached in places I didn’t know how to soothe. The need was so intense I almost closed that sliver of space he’d placed between us myself. My fingers actually tightened in the leather material of his jacket. My toes tensed to arch.

His arms tightened as if sensing my desire and where crevices divided us vanished, except one.

His mouth drifted away, gliding across my cheek but never touching. I almost whined in protest when they grazed my ear.

“Thoran,” he whispered. “My name is Thoran. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me yours, but I want to hear mine on your lips.”

If it wasn’t for his arm, I would have been a sticky puddle at his feet. My heart galloped in my chest with such blinding madness I couldn’t function beyond falling into his eyes and silently begging him to kiss me already.

But he ended the torment by releasing me. He drew back just enough to reach around me and pull open the car door. His hold on my eyes never wavered, never lifted. Not even to flick away when helping ease me into the warm seat. Not even when he closed the door and stood watching me through the wet glass.

It was only when Cyrus arrived at his side did he break our hold. He turned to his guard and said something. Then the two were getting into the front and we were on the road.

The drive back to the house took no time in comparison. The walls of structure and the flow of people dissolved into a blur of wilderness spanning far into the gray afternoon.

Lacroix — Thoran — opened my door at the base of the house stairs and helped guide me onto the stone driveway. The rain continued to fall in a fine mist that dampened everything, despite the umbrella.

“I have a matter I need to deal with, but I’ll be back for dinner,” he said softly.

I wanted to ask what I was supposed to do in the meantime, but that wasn’t his problem. It was up to me to stay where I was told.

So, I just nodded and let myself get led inside. He didn’t follow, but remained on the threshold while Cyrus dragged my bags in and passed them off to the crew of five men ready to take them to my room.

I guessed that was where I was meant to stay and wait. So, I didn’t object when one of the men motioned me to follow them up.

Alone with a million bags, I supposed that was my job until Thoran’s return. I managed to get all of the dresses hung in the wardrobe and closet. The rest were folded in the dresser. The shoes, accessories and everything else found homes throughout the room.

Just when I thought I was finished, the second batch arrived with the same five men who immediately left me to figure it all out on my own.

It was too much.

Most of the items were things I never even saw. I guessed Thoran must have chosen them, but they were all so ... inappropriate. So revealing. I had to question if maybe he just didn’t realize, but he must have when I lifted a short, fully transparent top in glittery white.

My cheeks warmed as I wondered if he wanted to see me in them. Part of me, the tiny hidden part I kept on a tight leash tingled at the prospect of seeing his face if I did.

Maybe not the transparent one. I wasn’t ready for that. But ... I selected a knee length dress in soft black with white trim at the hem and across the V of the neckline. It fit snug at the waist and flared over the hips and around the legs. It was one he’d chosen, and I couldn’t deny was a lovely pick. Mother wouldn’t have approved. Black was for funerals, in her opinion, but I liked it. I even found a pair of suede pumps to match. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and dug through half the bags until I found the selection of face products Amari helped me find.

By the time Thoran knocked lightly at my door, I was dressed and made up the way I was supposed to be, yet my insides danced with nerves as I turned the knob and faced the man.

---