Page 52 of His Ruthless Match
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head at me. But there was no venom in her words, only amusement.
“Ridiculously fun,” I corrected, grinning.
Eva’s gaze drifted back to the horizon, her smile softening. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I didn’t say anything.
Maybe I didn’t want to ruin how I felt when I was around her, which I was beginning to suspect was a little more dangerous than any creature that lived in The Below.
“I’m freezing,” Eva said. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if sheer willpower could stave off the cold.
“Come on,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “Let’s get back to the cottage.”
She nodded without argument—a rare occurrence—and we hurried up the beach. Her teeth chattered, though she tried to disguise it, probably thinking I wouldn’t notice. I noticed everything. And gods help me, her vulnerability stirred something in me I couldn’t quite name. Something I didn’t want to name.
By the time we reached the door, she was full-on shivering. I opened it and motioned her inside.
“I’ll grab you a towel,” I said, disappearing into the bathroom before she could protest.
When I returned, she was still standing at the door, rubbing her arms absentmindedly. Her dress clung to her frame, and for a split second, my eyes betrayed me, lingering on the curve of her hips before I forced them upward.
“Here,” I said, holding out the towel.
“Thanks.” Her fingers brushed against mine. The contact was nothing, really—skin on skin, a passing second—and yet, it seared itself into my brain like some kind of brand.
She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and clutched it tight. For a moment, neither of us said anything. The warmth of the cottage settled over us, and the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was loaded.
I cleared my throat, stepping back to put some distance between us. “You should change into something dry before you catch a cold.”
“Yeah,” she said softly, hesitantly.
I turned toward the kitchen, giving her space. She needed to dry off, and I needed to stop whatever the hell this was. My job was to keep her safe, not… this. Not feeling her laugh echo in my chest or replaying the way her smile had transformed her face.
Get it together, Jareth.
Dragging a hand through my damp hair, I forced myself to focus. This wasn’t anything. It couldn’t be anything. The fact that she made me feel lighter, like I could breathe easier when she was around? That was irrelevant.
This was just a job. Nothing more.
Besides, The Shadow would likely have my head if he knew what I was thinking.
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, trying to ignore my damp clothes clinging to my skin. The ocean spray hadn’t been cold enough to explain the chill running through me—no, that had more to do with the woman standing just a few feet away.
Her laughter from earlier played on a loop in my head, soft and musical and entirely unexpected. The sound had burrowed under my skin, unsettling and addictive all at once. I glanced her way as she stepped out of the bathroom. She was wrapped in the towel, her wet hair plastered to her neck and shoulders. She held her soaked dress in one hand, looking awkward and utterly out of place in my cottage.
“Those won’t dry anytime soon,” I said, pushing off the counter. “Wait here.”
I disappeared into my bedroom, then flipped through drawers with more care than usual. My fingers brushed over a hoodie I’d had for years—worn, comfortable, familiar. I grabbeda pair of shorts, too. They would be too big on her, but at least they were clean.
“Here,” I said, when I went back out. “These should fit you well enough.”
She scanned my face as if she were waiting for the catch. Eventually, she took the clothes. She didn’t thank me—of course not—but her posture relaxed slightly as she retreated back into the bathroom.
A minute later, she returned. My hoodie swallowed her, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the sleeves far too long for her frame. The shorts barely peeked out underneath. A faint smile tugged her lips.
“These smell like you,” she said absently. Then, her eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Forget I said that.”
But I couldn’t forget it. The sight of her in my clothes did something to me. My instincts screamed to close the space between us, to press my lips to hers and see if her fire tasted as good as it looked. I forced myself to stay put, arms crossed, my body tense with restraint.
Eva cleared her throat. “It’s getting late. You should probably take me home.”
