Page 30 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
The longer his gaze holds mine, the hotter I become, until I’m sure my burning skin is the same color as the red silk dress.
Without waiting for an invitation, he steps into the library and walks toward me. My gaze follows him, and my heartbeat quickens.
He stops a couple of feet away, his chest level with my face, and uncurls his palm. “For your headache.”
I drop my gaze to the two white pills in his hand then glance up at him. “I think we both know I don’t have a headache.”
I cross one ankle over the other, knowing it will elongate my legs, but not knowing why I can’tstopmyself.
“You don’t have to design any logos or branding for us. We have agencies on our books.”
“I’m sure you do.”
He pushes his hands into his pockets and regards me.
“How about we start over? Let’s forget about the night at the bar and pretend we just met at the church.”
“The church? Seriously?” I smile thinly. “What’s to forget? I barely remember anything anyway.”
For a split second he looks at me as if I slapped him, but he resumes his blank expression instantly. “You told me I was attractive.”
Blood freezes in my veins. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” He folds his arms across his chest, and his biceps fill out the white shirt, dark ink filtering through the soft cotton. “In fact, your exact words were, ‘If you weren’t the most attractive guy in here already, you certainly are now.’”
My vision swims.
His gaze feels searing against my shoulder blades as I turn back to the window. Even looking in the opposite direction I can’t escape the heat.
“That was inappropriate of me. I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He takes another step toward me. “Don’t be. I would have been flattered if it weren’t for the fact you only thought that because I might be bad news.”
My peaked nipples chafe against the fabric of my dress. “And are you?”
There’s a long pause before he replies.
“It depends who’s asking.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “What if it’s me asking? As your future sister-in-law.” I stare out at the garden, too afraid to read his expression.
His soft sigh touches my skin from a few paces away. “No ...”
I hold my breath.
“. . . because I’m not staying.”
The thump of my heartbeat threatens to drown out all other sound. “But you’d be bad news if you were?” I turn my head far enough to catch his presence out of the corner of my eye, and my blood pulses in my ears.
Seconds pass.
His jaw works softly from side to side.
Then he nods slowly.
I shiver as I exhale. I feel like I’m levitating, unable to keep a handle on solid ground.
I turn back to the window, afraid to look at him. “I’ll see you in the dining room,” I say quietly.
