Page 77 of Brazen King

Pull it together, Natasha.I focus my attention on the half-frantic woman in the mirror. Slowly, I manage to obey. Taking deep breaths, I steady my nerves.

Finally, I’m calm enough that I can go back out and face our guests.

But one thing is certain. I need to stay far away from Killian tonight.

Because I’m not sure I can control myself if he gets that close again.

Squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine, I unbolt the bathroom door and step back into the hall.

Thankfully, he’s not there waiting for me—a possibility I feared.

But as soon as I step out into the room of gathered guests, my eyes lock with his across the room. And he quirks an eyebrow. Clenching my teeth, I shake my head, silently warning him to keep his distance.

Of course, Killian doesn’t seem interested in following orders. And he makes his way toward me with calm, even strides. But his progress is like that of a hot knife through butter, the crowd melting away before him like they instinctively know to stay out of his way.

Killian’s towering sidekick is there in the periphery, watching his boss’s movement.

But either Killian has told him to keep his distance, or the man just knows.

It doesn’t matter. I can’t let the cocky Irishman get to me.

Clearly, hiding in the bathroom isn’t going to be a solution, though.

Taking a sharp left, I change directions, heading toward the lesser-known stairs that lead up to the terrace overlooking the ballroom. If I can get there before he sees where I’m going, I might just be able to lose him. Then I can watch from above and keep a low profile for the evening.

The stairwell is nearly empty, and as soon as I’m on it, I pick up the pace, racing up the steps as quickly as I can without making noise. The terrace is occupied by a handful of socialites, who glance toward me and give a polite acknowledgment before going back to their conversation.

I respond with a shy smile and keep moving.

And I don’t look behind me.

Passing from the larger terrace into a separate, adjoining room, I finally slow, breathing heavier than would strictly be necessary for the amount of exertion I just spent. But for some reason, the air feels painfully thin, the oxygen lacking.

“Does this mean you’ve given up trying to kill me, then?” Killian’s playful voice carries across the distance between us and sends my heart into a full-on sprint.

Gasping, I whirl to face him, and a shiver races through my body as I take in his full glory for the first time tonight. He’s devastatingly handsome in a navy-blue suit and a crimson and gold paisley tie, the white shirt behind it making the intricate pattern stand out.

I can just make out the lines of his neck tattoos creeping over the collar of his dress-shirt, and it makes my chest ache painfully.

“Don’t, Killian,” I plead, backing away slowly. But I have nowhere to run—not unless I want to wind up trapped in a stairwell with him. Which sounds dangerously tempting.

“Why do I get the sense you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, ignoring my request as he steadily stalks toward me, closing the distance between us.

“Iamavoiding you,” I say fiercely, my desperation making me blunt. “I want you to stay away from me.”

“Why?” he asks, stepping closer, despite my preference.

And my breath catches as my back hits the edge of a waist-high bookshelf filled with heavy tomes. “Because nothing good can come of it,” I insist, my voice quivering now, as the last few feet between us vanish.

And suddenly, he’s all around me—his intoxicating smell, the welcoming heat from his body, the magnetic pull that effortlessly shifts my true north until I’m inexplicably leaning toward him.

My heart slams painfully against my ribs, warning me that we’re reaching the point of no return. And as Killian’s arms settle onto the bookshelf behind me, caging me in, I see my last chance to escape slip away.

His intense green eyes hold my gaze, daring me to try and stop him.

But I’m completely unprepared today. Right now, in such a public venue, I’m unarmed beyond my own physical strength, and I’m supposed to be acting the proper young lady. The one who speaks softly and averts her eyes because she’s shy.

I’m not at all prepared to stop Killian.

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