Page 17 of The Secrets of Roan Island

The implication warms my cheeks. I bring the back of my bare hand to the side of my face, a cooling touch.

“Does that upset you, Miss Rose?”

I stand up straighter and repeat his words. “Not at all.”

We walk silently through the plants, our footfalls filling the space like heartbeats. I want to focus on the foliage but struggle to draw my attention from the man meandering the greenhousewith me, anxious for where our verbal game of strategy might take us next. But silence remains.

When we reach the other end of the room, Noah stops and leans against the wall, watching me. “What happened? I imagine you loved him very much?”

“Who? My husband?”

Noah dips his chin in a sharp nod.

I let one quick, bitter laugh past my lips. “I thought I did.”

Noah tilts his head. “But–”

“I left him.”

“Divorce? But the colony only allows women to divorce their husbands in cases of…” His voice drifts as his brows collapse over his eyes, then his head snaps up, piercing me with his gaze.“He hurt you?”

“He was not… a loving man.”

A cloud passes over one of the moons, darkening my confession.

Noah storms toward me to grip my shoulders. “His name.”

“What?” I squeak.

“Tell me his name.” The intensity in his eyes and the firm grasp on my shoulders should scare me, but I can tell the fierceness isn’t directed at me. It’s a fire that speaks of retribution, though that doesn’t make sense. He has no reason to want to protect me.

I swallow and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“He hurt you.” His grip tightens. “His name. Now.”

The shiver that races up my spine fills me with a feeling I don’t understand. Somehow, I know if given the opportunity, Noah would do horrible, unspeakable things to David. For me. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. Some dark side of me wants to whisper his name, but I bite my lips.

Noah’s gaze drops to my mouth. The tension between us shifts and changes into something more carnal, but no less violent.

He leans forward. “I want his name.”

My chest rises and falls in panting breaths. I shake my head.

“You would protect him?” he snarls, and in the dim light, his teeth almost look longer, sharper. His eyes, darker.

I shake my head again. “That time is past.” I force the words out between shallow breaths, confused by my response to Noah. His dominating presence is antithetical to everything I stand for, a force that would frighten me with any other man.

“I will get his name.” He presses a thumb against my bottom lip, a movement far too intimate. For a brief moment, I want to suck his finger into my mouth just to see how he’d react. I fight the inclination.

His grin is feral, as if he can tell the salacious nature of my thoughts. He runs his tongue over his teeth. “You will give it to me,” he says, pinching my lip between calloused fingers and tugging enough to make me gasp.

The noise seems to shake him out of whatever trance held him. He blinks, and his expression regains the distant composure he had throughout dinner. It’s like his mask slipped for a few revealing moments, offering something sinister, powerful, and sensuous, but now it’s firmly back in place as if the change never happened.

He steps back and clasps his hands behind him. “I should escort you to your room. It’s late.”

I make a noise of assent even as my body rebels against the idea.

The walk back to my room is too short and too long at the same time. We don’t speak. My thoughts reel from what happened in the greenhouse, and I can’t shake the intensity in the depth of his dark gaze.

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