Page 46 of Forensics of a Fable

“Eamon?” Bel felt dizzy after their unnatural pace. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

Ignoring her, he stormed through his crumbling mansion until he reached an ornate pair of double doors. He shoved through, and the decay vanished as he stepped into an elegantly decorated room. It was dark and simple, yet fit for royalty, and the gothic décor matched his personality perfectly. Bel instantly knew this was Eamon Stone’s bedroom.

Without a word, he strode to his massive bed and dropped Cerberus on one side and her on the other before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She launched off the mattress and raced after him, catching his wrist before he could escape. “What are you doing?”

“Coming for me is one thing,” he said, his emotionless voice filled with a danger that flushed her skin cold. “Come for me all you like. I welcome the challenge. Try to kill me. I’m a worthy opponent. But coming for you?” He gripped her jaw, tilting her head back so she could see the death in his hell-black eyes. “No one comes for you, Isobel Emerson. No one uses you against me and lives. I will find your partner, and I will find the killer threatening you. And when I do, I’ll rip his limbs from his body.”

“Eamon, stop.” Bel tugged his arm, but he slipped free off her grasp and stepped out of the room. “You can’t do that. This is my case, and if you kill someone, if you get caught, I can’t help you. Don’t make me endure that. Don’t force me to turn against you. Let me come. Let me help you find Gold and arrest who did this.”

“No.” He slammed the door behind him, locking her and her dog inside. “Go to sleep, Detective. You’re safe here, I promise. No one will touch you.”

“Eamon!” She pounded on the door, but it didn’t budge. “You can’t leave me locked up in here! Let me out.”

But he was gone, Bel a prisoner in his bedroom.

Bel woketo sunshine drifting through the parted curtains, and much to her annoyance, she felt wonderful despite the few hours of sleep. Eamon’s dark bed was both soft yet firm, the pressure delicious against her spine. The sheets were silky smooth and cool, and his scent wrapped her in its warmth. She had stolen one of his large tee shirts to wear, and his fragrance consumed her. The only thing that would have perfected her night was if his massive body had curled around her as she slept in his arms.

Bel shoved that fantasy aside, determined to remain angry with him for locking her away in his so-called tower, but thelonging to feel his heavy weight against hers made her realize that the normal pressure of her bed-hogging dog was missing.

“Cerberus?” She sat up with a start, but her pitbull was gone. For a fraction of a second, panic swelled in her chest, but then she noticed the open bedroom door. Seemed Eamon had finally released her, and she realized the air smelled faintly of coffee and bacon. Bel smirked, rubbing the remains of sleep from her eyes. Of course, Cerberus had left her side. He loved breakfast, and even though Eamon was an alpha predator, her dog knew they were safe with him.

Bel slipped out of his bed and padded on bare feet down the grand staircase to find the kitchen. The scent of coffee grew stronger, and she rounded the corner only to freeze in the doorway. Eamon’s back was to her as he cooked, and Cerberus stood beside him, staring up intently at whatever he had in the pan. Eamon had only sweatpants on, and those distracting pants hung dangerously low, showing off every gloriously bare muscle that rippled through his back. He was sinfully gorgeous, chiseled marble carved into pale skin, and his perfection rivaled the gods themselves. Each curve of his body flexed with danger, every move of his muscles coiled with seduction, and Bel clenched her teeth, reminding herself that she was mad at him.

“You just going to stand there and stare, or would you like coffee while breakfast finishes?” Eamon interrupted her gawking, and she glared at his back before stepping into the kitchen. Cerberus finally noticed her and raced around her legs before cementing himself back to Eamon’s side. Eamon reached into the cabinet for a mug, and Bel tried to ignore the way his long torso stretched with his movements. She focused on the stove instead and saw why her pitbull was so captivated by her captor. Beside the frying eggs and bacon, a steak sizzled in a separate pan. Seemed that since he lacked dog food, he planned to bribe her pup with a steak, and Bel reminded herself yet againthat even though the man was precious and domestic with her dog, he still locked her in his house.

“Eamon,” she started, but he turned around, handing her the coffee fixed exactly how she liked it.

“I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry.” He returned to the stove, and Bel felt annoyed at how disappointed she was that he hadn’t touched her. He normally found a way to make contact, but he simply turned his back and flipped the bacon. “I realize locking a police officer in my house was a stupid idea, but before you yell at me like I deserve, can I ask you to do one thing?”

“Okay?” Bel leaned against the counter so she could see his profile. This domestic Eamon was unreasonably attractive, and combined with his refusal to look at her, this version had her stomach in knots.

“I’ve done horrible things in my long existence. I’ve killed people. Inflicted a lot of damage. I don’t do fear. I never worried. But then you entered my life, and it’s all I do now. I almost killed you in New York. I almost destroyed something so perfect and beautiful, so can you pause before you put me in my place and try to understand what losing you means to me? I know I acted unreasonably, and I shouldn’t have locked you in my room, but I meant what I said last night. Come for me all you want, but no one comes for you.”

“Look at me,” she ordered, and Eamon obeyed, his death-black eyes finding her ocean blues. A strange vulnerability swam in his gaze, and it struck Bel how many sides of this man existed that only she was allowed to witness. She stepped closer to him, unsure why, but she hated the distance. Somewhere along the way, she had grown accustomed to this man’s touch. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“I know. You’re a brave woman who likes to risk her life.”

“I do not—”

“My little detective, do you forget the time you broke into my house or the night you faced off with a bear? You are not a damsel in distress, but you certainly like to test my sanity.”

Bel smirked and sipped the coffee to keep from pushing into his arms. “I’m thankful you want to protect me, but I don’t appreciate being locked up.”

“If I asked you to stay inside, would you?” he challenged.

“Eamon…”

“Would you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly.” He turned off the stove and plated the eggs and bacon for them and the steak for the impatient dog. “Sit down and eat your breakfast, Detective, and I’ll try not to lock you up again. Can you at least promise me that if I tell you that it’s too dangerous, you’ll listen? I don’t do it to control you. I do it because I’ve seen true evil, and I wouldn’t survive if it took you. Words will never do my feelings justice, but there is no life without you. You are my air, my very breath. Without you, I would suffocate.”

Bel followed him to the table, unsure how to respond to that declaration, but Eamon thankfully served her the food with a fresh pour of coffee and then fed Cerberus, who was having a meltdown at the torture of having to wait. Bel bit into a piece of bacon, watching her dog’s joy and Eamon’s care, and she had the distinct notion that staying at his house was a bad idea, but not for the reasons she originally expected. This man was her every fantasy wrapped in a sinful body, and the way he fed her dog an undoubtedly expensive steak had her willing to throw caution to the wind.

When Cerberus finished, Eamon poured himself a mug before joining her at the table. He sat on her right, her scars on display for him, but it was her bare thighs that he studied as he dug into his breakfast. His lingering gaze filled her with a headysense of power, and when their gazes met, he smirked, knowing full well what he did to her.

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