Page 32 of Ashes of Saints

He obviously doesn’t think so.

“Evening,” Parker says to a couple who pass us as we cross one of the bridges overlooking a lake.

It’s a very romantic setting. The warm spring evening, along with all the wine and my acceptance that it’s not going any further, makes me a little cheeky. I walk to the railing and peer over the dark water, then back at Parker. “I hope you aren’t going to propose.”

He stands with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips, looking so handsome and a little dangerous. “What if I did?”

I turn and lean my back against the banister, knowing he’s playing like I am. But I like this playful side of us so keep it going.

“I’d have to say no. I’m in love with someone else.” I shrug and fight my giggle.

Parker stiffens. His hands leave his pockets as he closes the distance with more speed than I expect. I tug in a sharp breath. Then he places his arms on either side of me, his body towering over me as we stand an inch apart.

I can’t breathe.

“I need his name.” Parker growls.

This is just a game, I remind myself.

Swallowing, as arousal plows through my veins, I say, “Damon Salvatore. Mob Boss. Very dangerous.”

Parker’s brows dip, then one lifts and I almost die from how handsome he is.

“I was going to say one bullet will eliminate any competition, but if you mean the Salvatore vampire, then I might have to step aside.”

My mouth falls open.

“You watch The Vampire Diaries?”

“No, I don’t watch The Vampire Diaries,” he replies as if the idea is ridiculous. “But I do have social media and female friends who share his damn photo all the time.”

I almost smile.

He removes one arm, and I miss his closeness. It seems deliberate, as if he’s trying not to stay close to me but also doesn’t want to completely move away.

I reach for his shirt and tug him back. Not playing anymore. I want him to kiss me.

“You look like him.”

“I’m hotter.”

“Just as overconfident.” I grin.

“I have fifty pounds of muscle on the guy.” He runs his finger over my forehead, sliding my hair behind my ear.

It’s not the first time he’s done it.

Surely this is not the wine talking. I know this man desires me. My hand rests on his chest and I feel all those muscles underneath it.

“You do,” I reply huskily.

We stand for a long moment, sharing oxygen as he studies my eyes. The air between us is electrifying. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a man as much as I do at this moment.

To have his mouth on mine.

To be ravished until I can’t think of anything else except the feel of our naked bodies writhing together as one. For one night or more, I really don’t care.

Drawing in a ragged breath, I wait for the kiss—

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