Page 46 of Cruel Ice

Declan’s mouth pressed to her wrist again. When the rough, wet edge of his tongue slid over her, she jolted.

“You’re healed,” he murmured.

Her breath came way too fast. “My scratch—those stitches—they are the reason you’ve been avoiding me and locking me away in the haunted castle?” Her nickname for his home. It was big and intimidating and heavily Gothic and she loved it. Not that she’d told Declan that she adored the monstrosity that was his mansion. And, besides, he’d been avoiding her. Basically, saying she needed to sit with her damn feet up while he disappeared for hours at a time. “You left me with Alfred.”

His hold tightened on her wrist. “Who the fuck is Alfred?”

“Really?” A long-suffering sigh. One that she hoped hid the fact that her breathing had definitely become more erratic thanks to the wicked licks of his tongue on her skin. And what was up with that sexy licking? He’d been super platonic all week. She’d entertained the fantasy of him slipping into her bed late one night. Of him saying he couldn’t make it without her any longer. That hehadto have her.

Only he’d never said those words.

He’d been the perfect gentleman. Damn him. Well, almost perfect. There was one thing that he’d done?—

“Alfred.” Gritted out from Declan. “Who is he?”

“Batman? Robin? Ring any bells?” She tugged on her wrist. He did not let go. “Seriously, you have to see the similarities. You basically live in Wayne Manor.”Though I prefer to think of it as your haunted castle.

“I live in my own damn manor. Not Wayne anything.”

“Yeah, fine, you’re missing the point.” He had to know who Alfred was. “You can’t tell me that you weren’t superhero obsessed when you were a kid. Every guy I know was obsessed with Batman at one point or another. My brothers wanted tobehim when they were younger. Come on, you must know?—”

“I know who fucking Batman is.” A growl.

A very Batman-like growl, but she didn’t point out that fact. Instead, she did a very soft, lady-like clearing of her throat. “Anyway…James is your Alfred.”

“James isn’t my damn butler! He did not secretly train me in martial arts and help me track down the Penguin and the Riddler.”

She nodded, pleased. “Ah. So youdoknow Batman.”

He let her go. “I used to have comics. When I was eleven, my father took them all and burned them in front of me.”

Her mouth dropped open. What a horrible thing to do to a child. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he didn’t want me wasting my time with things that weren’t real. He wanted to show me that shit like that didn’t matter.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. “And in his mind, what did matter?”

Declan’s eyes glittered as he stared up at her. “Money. Power. Breaking his enemies and pretty much leaving as much devastation as possible in his wake.”

From what she’d learned of his father, yes, he had seemed to leave a lot of devastation behind. She could almost see some of that devastation in Declan’s eyes. Then he blinked, and she could see nothing at all but a cold stare—no, an icy one—peering back at her.

“You shouldn’t have burst into my office,” Declan told her. All emotion had left his voice.

She rolled her eyes.

He blinked.

“Youshouldn’t be working this late,” she tossed out. “It’s eight p.m. I’m sure the movers and shakers are all gone home for the night.”

“Not those in a different time zone.”

Seriously? “You’ve been avoiding me. I’d decided that I’d had enough. Told Alfred to kiss my ass when he tried to stop me from leaving the haunted castle. And here I am.”

His lips thinned.

“You have been avoiding me.” Softer.

“I’ve been trying not to fuck you, sweetheart. There’s a difference between avoiding someone and trying not to absolutely devour the person.” His hands went to grab the armrests on his chair. “You were injured.”

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