Page 25 of Scarred Sacrifice
Henry’s assessing gaze flickers between us. “William, have Miss Fox’s belongings moved into Lord O’Connor’s.”
“Oh, you don’t need to—” I start to protest.
“Nonsense, I’m sure you will enjoy being together a lot more. And it means you won’t be sneaking off into the private areas of my house to spend time together,” he says with a wink.
Nyx flexes his hand on my back, his fingertips slowly stroking back and forth. I fight the urge to shove him off.
“That’s settled then,” he beams.
“Oh, has the fire been put out?” I ask, only just realising the alarm had stopped.
“Yes, it was just an error by a member of staff,” he sneers, glaring at William. “Now, let’s get back to bed.” He gestures for us to leave before him, so we do.
Nyx still keeps his hand firmly on my back, and as the other guests make their way back upstairs to their rooms, a few of them don’t miss the way Nyx is touching me. Great. I’m sure they will be all gossiping about that in the morning. I spot Edna and she grins, giving me the thumbs-up. I can’t help but laugh and shake my head.
“This way,” Nyx whispers in my ear, turning us in the opposite direction of my room. He comes to a stop four doors along and opens it, gesturing for me to enter.
I walk in, noticing his room is even more luxurious than mine. He has an entire lounge area with a sofa, and I notice that my things are already placed in the room. Jesus, they work fast here. I whirl around to snap at Nyx.
“Okay, what in the hell—” I start, but my words are cut off as he crashes his mouth to mine. I try pushing him off, but he remains firm. My body starts to relax against him until my lips are kissing him back.
“Cameras,” he whispers across my lips. “Shower with me,” he demands. I’m about to tell him where he can shove his shower, but he grabs my hand and drags me into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he lets go of my hand and switches on the shower. I stand there, my arms folded against my chest.
Once he’s satisfied, he steps towards me. “Tell me who the fuck you really are,” he demands on a low growl.
I tilt my head. “Wow, the posh boy accent has certainly been dropped fast,” I mutter.
“Keep your voice down. Now start fucking talking,” he presses.
I place my hands on my hips. “Back the fuck up, buddy. I am not the type of girl you can just bark orders at, and I am not about to tell you everything and risk myself and why I am here. You tell me who the fuck you are,” I seethe.
He grounds his jaw, the muscle twitching in frustration, but he doesn’t know who he is up against. I will stand toe to fucking toe with him and never back down.
“Fuck,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I have a job to do. I won’t and can’t risk telling you,” he admits.
I squint my eyes, assessing him. “Well then, it appears we have come to a stalemate, with neither of us willing to divulge why we are both here,” I state firmly.
His crystal blue eyes pin me in place. “So, what do we do now?” he asks.
I shrug. “How about you stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours?” I suggest.
“It’s going to be a little hard when you are sharing my fucking bed,” he snaps.
“Who said anything about sharing a bed? You can sleep on the couch,” I argue.
“Cameras, remember? Henry thinks we are an item. Therefore, you will have to act and play the role of my girlfriend,” he reminds me.
I grind my teeth together, fuming at the thought of having to share a bed with him. Every part of me is screaming at me not to trust him. Whatever his reasons are for being here, I know he would step over me to get what he needs, and I would do the same.
Taking a step closer into his personal space, I hold out my hand. “An agreement.” I pause, looking into his deep blue eyes. “You don’t like me, and I sure as shit don’t like you, yet we are both here to do what we’ve got to do.”
“Who said I didn’t like you?” he quips, smiling, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I arch my brow. “Let me be really fucking clear with you. If you think that because we are both here for reasons we cannot state, that it automictically makes us allies, that we are going to stay up late swapping stories and braiding each other’s hair, then you are wrong. We may have an understanding, but you are still my enemy. I am still your enemy, and if the moment arises that I have to crush you to get the job done, I will,” I grit out.
“Oh, believe me, Sparky. There is no misunderstanding on what this is,” he sneers.
I lift my chin. “Good, then we agree. Out there, you agree to give your best fucking performance as the dutiful boyfriend. In here, we stay the fuck away from each other,” I add, stating the terms.
