Page 71 of Ruthless God

Then, in a voice low and rough, he murmurs, “You drive me crazy. I didn’t prepare for that.”

A shiver races down my spine. I spin, turning so we’re facing each other. We’re close. Too close. So close that when I move, our chests brush.

A slow, charged moment stretches between us. I can feel the heat of him, the sheer presence of him, the storm in his gaze pulling at something deep inside me. I should sidestep him and run back to my room. I don’t.

Instead, I hold his stare, heart pounding, pulse thick and insistent. His jaw tics. His fingers flex at his sides, like he’s holding something back. Like if I say the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, he’ll stop holding back at all.

I moisten my lips, feeling the weight of his gaze as I try to focus on anything other than how close we are.

“Thank you for letting me out of my room,” I say, my voice huskier than I intend. “I was going stir-crazy in there.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift away. “It was for your safety while I was gone.”

My eyebrow lifts. Gone?

“You were gone? Where did you go? When did you get back?”

His lips twitch, like he finds my sudden curiosity amusing.

“I left after you were settled in your room.” His voice is calm and unreadable. “I went back to London to finish some business at my home. I returned today.”

London.

Business.

And not once did I know he was gone.

I don’t like what that says. That my captor can disappear, and I wouldn’t even know it. That I’m at the mercy of his schedule, his decisions, his control. The question builds before I can stop it. What exactly did he have to finish in London? Was it business? Or was it something… else? Something to do with a woman? And why in the hell does that thought make my stomach twist?

I refuse to examine that feeling too closely.

Instead, I square my shoulders and ask, “What kind of business?”

His head dips just slightly, his gaze flickering over my face like he’s already figured something out.

Then, with a slow, deliberate smirk, he says, “Why do I get the feeling that you’re jealous?”

My pulse skips, then spikes.

I straighten, crossing my arms, willing my face to stay neutral, unaffected.

“I’m not.”

Claudius’ smirk deepens, something wicked and knowing flickering in his gaze.

“Oh? Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He hums, considering me for a moment, then tilts his head. “I have a way we can test my theory.”

I should back down… shut this down. Anything. But I don’t.

Instead, I lift my chin. “I’m sure this will be enlightening.”

His eyes darken, something sharp and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

“I think you should kiss me.”

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