Page 30 of Where the Wicked Reign

Categorically hated him.

He wasn’t doing any of that positive stuff to help me. It was all just a sort of side effect of him messing with me, wanting to taunt and torture me.

It was all just a game to him.

Although, it sure didn’t seem like he was playing that game right now.

I studied him, seeing beyond all that darkness he put forth in his eyes. Seeing a whole lot of pain. He looked weary, too. World-weary, not battle weary. No, for somebody like him, that would only energize him.

We’re not that different there.

“Why are you here, then? Specifically?”

Instead of answering, he moved closer until his body was pressing against mine and I could feel all that hard muscle through the thin fabric of my robe and slip.

“Why didn’t you strike back at me for the peonies?”

“Seriously? That’s not why you’re here.”

“No, it’s not, but I want an answer.”

I went to step back, but he grasped the belt of my robe, holding me to him.

“Let go.”

“Can’t do that,” he uttered in that low rumble that I hated that I found so sexy, the sound rolling through me. He leaned in and breathed me in. “Three years. Three years it’s been since I was this close to you.”

“Since I kneed you in the balls, you mean? I can repeat that any time.”

“Since you got scared and ran off. But you’re not scared ofme, are you, Caterina?”

“Stop,” I said, turning my head away, only to have him grasp my throat in a firm and oh-so thrilling grip.

He groaned as he teased my pulse point with the pad of his thumb, obviously feeling my pulse jumping like crazy.

For a whole lot of reasons, none of which was fear.

At least not toward him.

The all-knowing bastard was right.

“Say it,” he demanded on a growl.

“No, I don’t fear you,” I found myself admitting.

As his eyes lit up, a siren-worthy warning went off in my brain.

This was dangerous. So fucking dangerous.

“I don’t fear you. Ihateyou.”

The look in his eyes turned to raging flames.

But I found out in the next second that it wasn’t for the reason I’d intended to elicit in him.

It wasn’t anger at me. He actually looked enraptured by it.

“If you hate me, why stop our war?”

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