Page 151 of Death of the Glass Angel
Des lay in bed, staring at the unlit chandelier as she groggily came to her senses, straining to remember how she arrived in such a situation. She glanced at Talon, who slept soundly beside her, one arm twisted under the pillow at an uncomfortable angle.
Her attention next fell on the empty bottle of liquor and the drained glasses on the nightstand. Ah. So, that was why Janus’s memories were not entirely clear. And presumably why Talon had not found his way back to his bed.
Glancing between the locked door and the pale dawn streaming through the window, Des troubled over what to do.
Did she wake him? Or should she roll over and let him make the first move?
Flipping on her side, Des squeezed her eyes shut. She had decided against interfering in Janus’ life, against leading her own.
A perfect opportunity had presented itself in the stillness of the mountain pass. But Talon had pulled away. Maybe Des’ feelings were one-sided.
Talon sat bolt upright beside her, pausing to take in his surroundings. He mumbled a curse when he noticed the empty bottles of liquor.
“Finally,” Des mumbled. “I didn’t realize songbirds slept so heavily.”
Maybe she should have remained silent. Talon’s demeanor shifted when he heard Des’s sharp tongue.
He slid closer to her, placing a hand on her hip. “Says the woman who drank just as much. Besides, dawn’s only just arrived. I’d wager not a noble soul in the city is awake.”
“I am.”
“Yes, but you’re an exception. In every sense.”
Des rolled over. “What’s that supposed to-”
She trailed off when she noticed his messy hair and half-unbuttoned shirt.
Pretending was easy when using words. Janus shied away from the world, and Des clung to the shadows. She had never been this close to someone before.
Talon smirked. “See something you like, or did you just lose your voice?”
Swallowing, Des untied her tongue. “Why are you here? When you pulled away, before?”
Face falling, he trailed a finger across her cheek. “I’m not trying to seduce you. I don’t need—or want—to use you.”
“You do this kind of thing often, then?”
“Bed important women with loose lips?” His hands trailed down her neck before pulling away. “Yes. It’s just. . . part of the job.”
Des wasn’t sure what she felt. Jealousy, rage? Heartbreak that she’d been so foolish?
“We’ll part ways when this ball is done.” He said. “I didn’t want you to count yourself among them.”
Finding a scrap of confidence, Des sat up, forcing him to lean back. “I never would have. You’re delusional if you think I can be so easily seduced.”
Talon smiled. “Oh, forgive me, your highness. I dare not underestimate you again.”
Des looked down. “Well, it’s probably better this way. With how I’m. . .”
“You worry a broken mirror will fear your reflection.” He said softly. “But both of us are fractured, Des.”
They sat in silence, a hairsbreadth apart, hands laced under the sheets.
He exhaled, frustrated. “You have no idea how much I want to-”
“Thendo it.”
Talon grabbed her hair and yanked her toward him, pressing his lips against hers. Her will crumbled. Throwing her hands around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair.
