Page 40 of A Treacherous Trade
“But still, I wonder…” He blinked back the void of wrath from his eyes, returning to the present conversation. “I have witnessed kissing. And my curiosity has—as you say—gotten the better of me.”
“I’m astonished it’s taken this long,” I remarked. “I couldn’t wait to kiss as a lass.”
Aidan had been my first, though not my only, but I needn’t think of that now.
He shrugged those wide shoulders, and I found myself lamenting the fact that he’d covered them up. “It is not something my people do.”
“How odd,” I murmured.
“Only to you.” He raisedthateyebrow. The one that often reminded me how truly narrow was my scope of understanding of the world.
“You’re right, of course.”
“My wife and I, we…” He stared at me, hard, before continuing. “We shared breath as we moved together. But your people, you close your eyes to touch mouths. I could not imagine doing so, not when the most interesting thing I can think of is watching.”
I blinked several times, unable to conjure a reply, certain I’d just learned more about this man than anyone alive knew.
“Why me?” The question escaped on a whisper before the thought had fully formed.
His eyes touched me everywhere as he spoke, as if he picked the answers out of places never before exposed to a man. “There are reasons we kept our mouths to ourselves,” he explained patiently. “So much of who we are—what we are made of—travels on our breath. Laughter and screams and threats. Disease and deceit. To my people, the idea of kissing is not only dangerous in that way but—” He searched for the word. “—unsanitary.”
I hadn’t realized that he’d glided closer until he was almost upon me, and I had to arch my neck up to see him correctly. “I’m amazed you’d want to try it at all, put like that.” Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure I wanted to either. “Especially with someone as… well, especially with me.”
His gaze locked on mine, and I was mesmerized by the striations of mahogany and sepia in what I’d only ever thought of as the black of his irises. One would have to be this close to note the difference of the pupils.
To indulge in their secrets.
His harsh features softened in imperceptible increments as he towered over me. “When I thought of whom to indulge in this curiosity with, yours was the first name that came to mind.”
I shook my head. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes every sense,” he insisted, lowering his head until the tip of his nose grazed my temple and the warmth of his breath stirred my hair. “I am never offended by your mouth. By the sight of your skin or the sound of your voice. Your scent is unique. Clean, even, beneath the rosewater you wear. Your teeth are well kept. Your breath… sweet.” He inhaled, bringing the breadth of his chest only a whisper from mine.
I’d had decent poetry penned in my name. I’d been flattered by compliments, heartfelt and even improper. Some of them earning a kiss or favor to the presenter thereof.
And oddly, none of them had affected me with the depth of this artless honesty.
“One kiss. And I will make those women regret that they locked you in here with me.”
I was nigh winded by the time I could summon an answer. “All right. One kiss only.”
The words barely left my lips before he struck with the velocity of a viper. I was suddenly trapped between his body and the wall, my face captured between his terrifyingly strong hands. He angled his hard mouth toward mine, descending at a distressing pace—eyes wide open.
“No,” I cried. “Wait!”
Reaching up between us, I clamped my hand over his mouth, wrenching my face to the side.
To my surprise, he instantly released me.
Sort of.
His palms rested against the wall near my temples, effectively still detaining me without technically handling me.
I wasn’t the only one panting, I noted, as his breaths teased the tendrils of my hair.
I winced, realizing I’d quite literally slapped my hand over the mouth of the deadliest man I knew. I had to explain myself, and that explanation was going to be ridiculous.
But it wasn’t murder I found in his gaze, as I’d expected once I gathered the courage to peek. It was something else. Something I had no name for. Something at once warm and bleak. Pensive and pleading.
