Page 38 of Stalker's Toy

His hand moves from my arm to my cheek, thumb brushing over the scar there. "You're exquisite, Mia. A work of art yourself."

My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure he must be able to hear it.

I should step away, maintain some professional distance.

But I can't move, can't look away from those piercing blue eyes.

"Henrik," I breathe, not sure if it's a warning or a plea.

He leans in closer, his breath warm on my skin.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers.

I don't.

I can't.

The heat between us is overwhelming, unlikeanything I've ever felt before.

No man has ever made me feel this way.

It's wrong—he's my boss, so much older than me—but at this moment, I don't care.

Henrik's lips brush against mine, soft at first, then more insistent.

I melt into the kiss, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.

He tastes like whiskey and something darker, something dangerous.

I could very well melt into him right now.

I hate the way he makes me feel needed.

The way I feel desired.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.

Henrik's eyes are dark with desire, and I'm sure mine must mirror his.

"We shouldn't," I say, but there's no conviction in my voice.

Henrik's hand cups my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip.

"And yet we will," he says, his voice husky. "Because we both need this, Mia. This connection, this fire."

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

"I'm afraid," I admit. "Not of you, but... of how much I want this. I shouldn’t want it. I shouldn’t want it at all."

He pulls me closer, his foreheadresting against mine. "Fear can be exhilarating,Nattblomma. Embrace it."

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze.

"Show me," I whisper.

Henrik's smile is predatory, sending another shiver down my spine.

He steps back, gesturing to the black canvas behind him, on the ground. "First, I want to paint you."

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