Page 85 of Spearcrest Queen

“To see if I’m miserable without you.”

He laughs, low and rough. “You were miserablewithme.”

“I’m more miserable now.”

“So?” He tilts my chin up with two fingers. “I’m miserable too. So what?”

“Sostay.”

He says nothing, fingers still pressing up into my chin, raising my face up to his. Is he going to kiss me? He must be thinking about it, his blue eyes dropping to my lips with such intensity that I practically feel my mouth scorched by the bright blue flame. Heshouldkiss me—claim his prize. He’s won, after all, hasn’t he?Itexted first,Istepped out from behind the counter,Iasked him to stay.

But—“I can’t.”

“Why not?” I snap.

“Because I’m just a creature of flesh and blood, and there’s only so much self-control I can exercise.”

My chest heaves under the crushing staccato rush of my breath. “What do you mean?”

His breath glides over my mouth as he replies in a low, rough murmur, “I mean that there’s no chance I’m staying the night without doing dirty, disgusting things to you.”

Please. God,please.

“So do it.”

His fingers slide away from my chin, lightly tracing my jaw, my neck, throwing back a strand of my hair over my shoulder. I lean into him without even thinking, tipping myself up on my toes, dizzy and heady with want, with the heat of him, with the smell of his perfume and his skin and the sheer elation of being near him, beinghis.

I lean to press my mouth to his; he steps away, pushing me firmly back by my shoulders.

“Not like this,” he says.

And he has the bare-faced audacity to still sound calm. I shove his hands off my shoulders angrily.

“Like what, then?”

He smiles. “You can have all of me, or none of me. But I’m done being your in-between thing, and I’m done meeting you halfway. You want me, Sophie? Then be mine, and I’ll be yours. All of me in exchange for all of you. Equal investment, equal risk, equal pain and equal pleasure.”

I stare up at him, heart pounding, stunned into absolute silence by the fact that he’s come all the way here, after almost a year, driven for hours after a night of overtime work, come to me on Valentine’s Day night, only to throw down this gauntlet.

All of me, in exchange for all of you.

That’s not a reasonable proposition—that’s mutually assured destruction.

I shake my head numbly. Evan lets out a soft laugh.

“Thanks for the tea.”

He turns and walks away. I follow him out into the hallway, heart hammering, watching him as he shrugs on his coat. My skin is buzzing with nerves, the voice in my head whimpering don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. I cross my arms and glare at him.

“You’rereallygoing.”

He shrugs. “I have work in the morning.” He opens the door. “Goodnight, then.”

He’s actually doing it. He’s named his terms, and now he’s enforcing them. He’sleaving. My entire soul rebels against it, outraged at being denied what I know is mine. I have the urge to reach for him, to drag him back to me, to close the space between us and make him mine.

But what good would that do? He’s told me I can have him—now it’s up to me to decide whether he’s worth the price he’s asking me to pay.

“You drove all the way here for a cup of tea?” I sneer.

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