Page 38 of Doubts & Fears

“I want to show you something.”

We walked down the hall away from our rooms. The lift would take us to the lower floor, where we had two distinctly different spaces.

It struck me as ironic, a realization that hadn’t crossed my mind before, that the playroom and our weapons room existed side by side. It was my favorite part of the house.

Bringing her fingers to my lips, I said, “Trust me. I have no intention of harming you.”

I pushed the button for the lift, and it opened with a ding. Her steps faltered before she nodded. The button for the bottom floor lit up once I pressed it, and the doors closed, a trace of honeysuckle invading my senses in the close quarters.

Her breathing changed, and our eyes met. A knot tightened in my stomach, my body reacting instinctively to her nearness. Her little teeth grazed her lower lip, betraying the nervousness bubbling below the surface.

Usually, that did nothing for me, but on her, I found myself lost in her innocent gaze, her mesmerizing eyes. They held that mix of vulnerability and trust again, and I instantly went hard. Fucking hell.

“So much for not touching you.” The words came out of nowhere, mere seconds before I pushed her back against the wall and pressed my body into hers. I lowered my lips, hearing her moan.Fuck. The sound alone was my undoing.

I pushed into her willing, honey-sweet mouth, her pink tongue meeting mine. I grasped her chin, deepening the kiss. Her mouth moved, tentatively at first, kissing me back. Holy Mother of God.

“Little love, you taste so sweet,” I murmured against her lips, understanding Alek’s obsession on a deeper level.

I was fully aware of what a mistake this was. But for the love of all things holy, I didn’t want to let her go. But I found my restraint, pushed myself back, and stood with my hands braced on either side of her.

What the fuck are you doing? This is completely out of your normal.

“What are we going to do with you?” I rubbed her bottom lip.

Pure innocence stared into my soul. She gave a simple shrug of her shoulders. This girl had no idea how dangerous she was. The lift door whooshed opened behind me, and I straightened up and pulled her along, taking her to what we lovingly called the war room.

The second the door swung open, her eyes lit up, and she squealed like a kid at Christmas. Her reaction was everything, and I couldn’t help smiling as she walked over to the display case where I kept my blades.

“We will begin working on your blade skills. I need to know what you know first, and we’ll go from there. You’ll learn to defend yourself in a variety of situations.” I readjusted my focus to the reason I brought her down here.

Someone left that package for her. And I’d be damned if she was not prepared for any potential harm that could come her way. The item that bothered me the most was the collar.

Collaring someone was a commitment, not something to be taken lightly. There was proper protocol, and that wasn’t it. I envisioned taking one of my knives to the asshole, letting him know he’d picked the wrong girl to fuck with.

“The first thing I need you to know is if you’re going to show your knife, I expect you to understand that life is on the line. This isn’t a fistfight you’ll both walk away from.”

I opened the case and took out a practice blade that would fit her hands well. “So if you show, be prepared to go. I’m not here to teach you knife fighting. I’m going to teach you how to kill. Just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean you’re not capable of defending yourself.”

Is she squeamish?

When she showed no signs of wariness, I stood in front of her and handed her the blade. She turned it over in her hand and gripped the handle. Then, swallowing hard, she looked up. I unsheathed my blade, and my muscles clenched as her eyes grew wide.

Her reaction to it in Portland had haunted me for weeks. It was more than the way she held it; it was the way she revered it. If she only knew how important it was to me. Only one other blade held a higher significance.

What would her reaction to that one be?

A strange desire to share with her, to show it to her, filled me. But it was a moot point, seeing as it was in London, safely tucked in a drawer in my room with the other important mementos from that time in my life. Shaking myself from the memories, I met her eyes once more.

Sharp steel pressed against my skin as I put my thumb to the blade. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked confused. Swiftly, I brought the blade down across the skin, and she exclaimed.

Low whimpers echoed around us as blood trickled from the wound. It slid down my thumb; a tiny drop fell on her T-shirt. It was fascinating to me. She didn’t flinch or turn away. Her mouth parted, and that same soft sound escaped.

I lifted my eyes and moved closer. Goose bumps broke out across her arms as I pressed my bloody thumb against the column of her delicate throat. “Aim for this spot,” I whispered, dragging it over the throbbing pulse in her neck.

What was she thinking?

Skin soft as silk sent a shock through my system as I slid my thumb up and across her cheek. And her sharp intake of breath heaved her chest, right before she leaned into my thumb and gently kissed it. Then her little pink tongue flicked out and slid across the cut. The intensity of her stare cut deeper than my blade. She wrapped her lips around my thumb.

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