Page 70 of His Ruthless Match
The words hit their mark, and her eyes narrowed, her defiance blazing. “I don’t need you. I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life.”
“Really?” I took a step closer, towering over her. “Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone who doesn’t know what kind of monsters she’s up against.”
She tilted her chin and met my gaze without a hint of fear. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle. And you sure as hell don’t get to act like you’re some kind of saint for keeping me alive.”
The anger between us was electric, crackling in the charged silence. I closed the distance between us without even realizing it. “You have no idea how dangerous the world is. You act like you’re untouchable, but you’re not. And one of these days, you’re going to push too far, and I won’t be able to save you in time.”
Her breath hitched, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” I continued as I gripped her arms to hold her in place. “I’ve never met someone so infuriating, so godsdamn?—”
I cut myself off, my gaze flicking to her lips. She caught the shift in my attention, her breath quickening as her cheeks flushed.
“So what, Jareth?” she asked. “What am I?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You’re everything I can’t have,” I muttered, my voice low and rough.
Her pulse raced beneath my fingers, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her lips parted slightly, and her head tilted just enough to drive me to the brink. My grip on her arms tightened as I leaned closer, the scent of her skin—warm and faintly floral—was intoxicating. Every muscle in my body screamed for release.
I could almost taste her, my lips hovering just close enough to send sparks shooting through me. But then, like a bucket of ice water being poured over my head, reality crashed down. I let go of her as if she’d burned me.
“This isn’t happening,” I said, my voice rough as I curled my hands into fists.
She stared at me, her chest heaving, emotions warring in her eyes. “You’re exactly right,” she snapped, gesturing between us. “This isn’t happening. You’re a cat shifter from The Below, and I’m—well, I’m not from that world. And?—”
I let out a low growl. “Yes, Eva. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re fucking better than me in every imaginable way. I had a moment of weakness because you prance around here in your tight-ass jeans and this dress and—” I stopped myself, gritting my teeth as the memory of earlier resurfaced. “And rubbing one off in the tub when you know damn well I’m wearing my bracelet. This is your fault.”
Her jaw dropped, and she flushed. She looked like she was about to fire back, but I didn’t give her the chance. I stormed out of the room, the frustration boiling over.
“Coward,” she muttered as I disappeared down the hall.
Leaning against the wall in the guest bedroom, I dragged a hand through my hair and cursed under my breath. My heart was still pounding, my body still on edge from the almost-kiss, the tension, and the fucking mess I’d made of things.
What the hell was wrong with me? Nothing could happen between us. She was my assignment, my responsibility. The Shadow trusted me to keep her safe. I couldn’t let my feelings—whatever the hell they were—get in the way of that.
But damn it, she made it so fucking hard.
20
EVA
Ipaced back and forth in my office, my mind running in circles. It had been a full week since the tense encounter with Jareth after we got back from The Below. The memory of it still lingered in the back of my mind, vivid and unrelenting, like a song stuck on repeat. Since then, things between us had been… icy. Professional. Polite, even.
I hated it.
I hated that I hated it.
And I hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about his firm grip on my arms or the raw intensity in his voice when he’d said I drove him insane. My chest tightened, and I pushed the thought away. No use dwelling on something that was better left buried.
But it was harder to ignore the way he’d been acting since then. Jareth, of all people, had decided to play the role of dutiful bodyguard to perfection. No teasing remarks, no smug expressions. Just watchful, overbearing professionalism. I didn’t know what to make of it, and it was throwing me off my game.
I rubbed my temples as I resumed pacing. As if Jareth’s sudden personality transplant wasn’t enough, I had Genevieve to deal with.
Genevieve Witt was officially out of control. That’s what everyone was saying.
Despite Gabe deactivating her social media accounts, new videos of her had been going viral every day, each one more damning than the last. Drunken antics, screaming matches with strangers, and even what appeared to be an impromptu topless dance-off at some dive bar. None of it made any sense.
My calls, texts, and emails to her all went unanswered. She’d gone completely radio silent. My gut told me something was seriously wrong.
