Page 63 of Emerald Malice

“I wasn’t spying. I was taking a stroll through the gardens when I heard the music,” I lie. “I thought I’d come by and say hello since you were up.”

She pulls the robe tighter around her body. “Since when have you been interested in saying ‘hello’? The only time you seek me out is to bark orders at me.”

I tilt my head to the side. She’s beautiful in the pale moonlight. The shadows tease me with hints of what’s beneath the gap in her robe. “I trust you’re settling in well.”

“I was—before I knew you spend your nights skulking around the gardens like a perv.”

“I suggest you close the windows if you don’t want to be observed.”

She scowls, but it doesn’t hide the blush on her cheeks. “What do you want, Andrey?”

Without answering, I push past her and walk into the pool house. She follows me inside, still fussing to make sure that her robe is cinched properly at the waist.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

She eyes me warily, clearly still flustered. “You told me I’d have my privacy. You shouldn’t be here.” Her eyes dart around like she’s worried I’ll spot something she doesn’t want me to see. Of course, that just draws attention to the small pink device lying next to the bed.

“Is that?—”

“It’s a vibrator, okay?” she snaps before I can even finish the question, marching over and plucking it off the floor. “I needed to de-stress and I thought… Anyway, the batteries ran out just when I was getting—It doesn’t matter. I just needed to release some steam, so I thought maybe dancing would…”

I watch her squirm. My God, how I love the way her skin goes pink.

“Did it work?” I ask.

She frowns. “Did what work?”

“The dancing. Or are you still horny?”

Her jaw drops. “Oh my God. You did not just—This is completely inappropriate!”

“We’re both adults.” I shrug, shifting closer. “And you’re carrying my baby. I don’t think discussing your arousal should be off the table.”

Especially considering my arousal is definitely on the table as we speak. A few more exchanges like this and I might put her on the table, too.

She clears her throat. “No. It did not.”

“Then maybe I can.” I’m close enough to reach out and stroke the expanse of bare thigh where it peeks out from beneath the hem of her robe. I only get a fingertip worth of contact before she smacks my hand away.

“What’s the harm?” I bite back my smile. She’s so flustered, so riled up. I fucking love it.

“‘The harm’?” she gawks. “There’s plenty of harm!”

“It’s not like you’re in danger of falling in love with me, are you?”

Those words have the desired effect. She flinches back. “Definitely not.”

“Then I fail to see the problem.”

Her jaw squares. “The problem is that I don’t want to sleep with you again.”

“So, your thighs aren’t dripping right now with the thought of me inside you? If I reached under that robe and touched you, would my fingers come away wet?”

She takes a small step back as though she’s worried I’m going to pounce on her. To be fair, I’m not far from doing precisely that. My cock is in danger of snapping off at this point.

“N-no,” she says shakily.

Bigger lies have never been told.

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