Page 21 of Magic of Sins

“I have something for you, Cinderella,” Caden says instead of a greeting. He dangles a pair of gold pumps in front of my face. “To match your dress.”

This would probably be the right time to tell him that I’m not wearing the dress. But before I can do that, his gaze has already slid to the opening of my coat. The hem of my black skirt peeks out. Caden grabs it and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Polyester,” he notes, grimacing, as if the fabric has personally wronged him.

“I didn’t feel comfortable in the dress you sent me,” I admit meekly.

Caden leans back and eyes me with raised eyebrows. He looks annoyed.

“I didn’t realize it was about whether or not you were comfortable. Take off your coat.”

I don’t want to comply with his order, but I do it anyway.Someone like Caden Nox is probably not used to being defied. And by refusing to put on his dress, I’ve likely opposed him quite enough.

Caden takes his time inspecting my wardrobe. Even though the sheer fabric ends above the top of my décolletage, I feel uncomfortable under his gaze and cross my arms in front of me. My body grows hotter the longer he scrutinizes me. Finally, Caden clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Take off your boots.”

I don’t think I’ll be able to get around that request. At least Caden doesn’t demand that I go back up to my apartment and change. Dry-mouthed and with a lot of unspoken curses on my lips, I part with my boots.

“The tights as well.”

“No.” I can’t help it, the word just slips out.

Caden reaches past me for the door handle. His arm grazes my hip. The touch leaves my skin tingling, but the sensation immediately dissipates as he pushes the door open. Cool evening air rushes in.

“You can get out anytime you want. No one is forcing you to come with me, Kaya. But if you do, it’ll be on my terms. Do we understand each other?”

He sounds calm but firm. I stare at the gray sidewalk and consider getting out, but then I nod, not saying anything. Caden pulls the door shut again.

“You have one minute,” he growls impatiently, before looking out the window, apparently to give me some semblance of privacy.

I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever shown a man this much bare skin. Only my doctor during a routine checkup, I guess, but he was old and not particularly attractive. Caden is a whole different story. I don’t know where to look as I take off my tights. Slowly the fabric glides down my legs and the cool air gives megoosebumps even though I feel feverish.

Surely the sin mage will stare at my pale skin and shaven legs. I’m ashamed; only sinners shave their legs, but I don’t like the feeling of stubble.

In spite of myself, I imagine Caden touching my leg, his slender fingers sliding delicately over my skin up to my knee and lingering against my thigh. A burning, sweet tremor spreads through me, and it scares me to the core. I tug awkwardly at the skirt of my dress, hoping to cover more of my skin, but it’s no use. I will have to resign myself to the fact that everyone will be able to see my bare thighs.

When I finally dare to look up, Caden’s already turning to the darkened window that separates us from the driver and knocks on it. The car slowly starts to move.

Caden seems indifferent. I’ve just thrown all my morals overboard, and he doesn’t seem to care at all. Feeling angry and helpless, I curl my bare toes into the velour mat beneath my feet. My gaze falls on the gold pumps.

“Should I put these on then?” I ask timidly.

Caden looks at me as if to say,You’re seriously asking me that?He still seems annoyed because I’m not wearing his snake dress. Does he intend to spend the whole evening in grim silence?

Just to have something to do, I slip into the pumps. The sight of my dainty feet in the golden shoes makes me swallow hard. They fit perfectly. Still, I doubt I’ll be able to walk in them. I’ll have to rely on him for support, and maybe that’s exactly what he’s aiming for.

We drive through West Virtue as the sun slowly sinks toward the horizon. There aren’t many cars on the road at this hour. The sidewalks are empty, too, except for a few passersby coming home late from work or visiting family members they need tocare for.

There are probably people like Ava among them, hoping to escape the attention of the guards so they can sneak into an underground party. I try to spot them—people looking around furtively or holding the collar of their coat just a smidgen too tight.

Caden’s elbow rests on the window frame, his thumb touching his upper lip. A lock of his blond hair falls across his forehead. He is handsome, and the pensive gesture makes him seem younger. I wonder how it would feel to brush the hair from his face.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

He looks at me in surprise. “For what?”

“For letting me keep wearing this dress.”

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