Page 41 of The Hunter
Millie’s heart squeezed, but she couldn’t instantly identify the cause. Because her son was without a father, a fact he now stated with little to no sorrow? Perhaps because he had common ground with such a villain? Or because she’d never seen the boy so animated around anyone except for the two mysterious and dangerous men she’d been forced to allow into his life. Could the cause be that the stoic assassin had just been so gentle with her boy?
Lord, it would do her well to not notice such things.
“Maybe you’re half a giant,” Jakub assessed. “Like your father could have been one.”
Argent peered down at the child as though examining a queer sort of oddity. “I very much doubt it.”
“But you don’tknowthat he wasn’t, if you never met him.”
The assassin paused. “I suppose there’s a certain logic to that.”
“It’s only that you’re sobig.” Jakub held out both of his hands to demonstrate the largest size he possibly could.
“Jakub.” Millie shooed him back toward his paints. “You’re being impolite.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Jakub mumbled, chastised. “Sorry, Mr. Argent.”
“Why don’t you finish your portrait,kochanie,while I get dressed?” Millie kissed him and turned to Argent, noting that she’d subconsciously placed her body in between her son and the so-called giant.
The assassin hadn’t missed it either, though if it bothered him, Millie couldn’t tell. His features were smooth and cool as pressed satin.
“Would you… like to step out while I dress, sir?” She gestured to the door, and again to her robe, beneath which she only wore her corset and underthings. As an actress, she wasn’t used to adhering to the rules of modesty as her life was full of backstage costume changes. But she suddenly felt quite shy.
“No.” His gaze sharpened and his features tightened.
Millie found herself breathless yet again. Something told her that to insist would be folly, and she certainly wouldn’t want to create a scene in front of her child. If they were truly going to be lovers this night, then why make an issue of diffidence?
Because he unnerved her. Because she’d been unprepared for him to invade her space and claim it as his own. Perhaps… because she’d forgotten how intensely compelling and frightening and awe-inspiring his presence truly was in the scant hours they’d spent apart.
“Then—may I induce you to sit, Mr. Argent?” Millie gestured to a chaise, one of the only available surfaces in the disarray of her dressing room. She silently wished he’d take it. Hewasan unusually large man, and somehow her dressing room had become too small with him inside it. As though he’d claimed all the air, the space, the notice of every little sensory nerve on her body. And while his eyes were arctic, his effect on her was anything but.
Her skin bloomed with warmth when he was nearby, even though he sometimes caused chills to spread through her. She found the paradox rather alarming.
He made no move to sit, just stared at her silently with those blue, blue eyes, and for a moment, Millie wondered if he’d heard her.
“Please,” she entreated. “Sit down? Rest yourself.”
His chin dipped in a nod, sending a gleam of lantern light through his thick auburn hair. Bending his long legs, he claimed the seat, looking almost ridiculous on such a dainty piece of furniture.
“Right. Yes.” Millie remembered herself, snatching her costume from the mannequin and dragging it behind the screen with her.
The cream silk of the screen did little to truly cover her, and Millie moved one of the lanterns from behind it so she would only cast a nominal shadow while she dressed. Not only because she didn’t particularly want to entice him further, but because his presence in her rooms caused little jolts of anxiety and awareness to sing along her veins. Everything she did took on a distinctly erotic undertone. The whisper of her silk robe over her skin when she slipped it off. The heavy warmth of the velvet dress. When she tucked, and tied, and shimmied into it, she could feel an extra tingle in her breasts, was aware of the feminine curve of her waist beneath her corset. She thought of all the places that might be bared to him later. All the places where he would put his hands.
Or his mouth.
Millie suddenly felt dizzy, and succumbed to her own need to sit down as her head swam. Though she didn’t look at him, she could sense the assassin’s eyes on her as she made her way to her dressing table. Somehow, she knew that despite her efforts, he’d watched her shadow behind the screen.
“Did you get enough to eat, Jakub?” she asked, glancing toward her son in the corner as she lowered herself in front of the large mirror. “Jakub?Kochanie?”
Lost to his paints, he didn’t even acknowledge her.
Which left her only one companion for conversation, the terse giant with the startling eyes.
Drat.
Fumbling for her rouge, she refused to look at him as she added more color to her cheeks. Her hand paused just as the brush reached her face. Even beneath the makeup, it was obvious her color was unnaturally high. She reached for her lip rouge instead. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t ignore her assassin-turned-protector. It was utterly impossible. He sat so immense and motionless and silent.
She hazarded a glance at him, if only to make certain he still breathed.
