Page 17 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

“Why only one?”

He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. “If we have too many options, we get overwhelmed and blindly make hasty decisions. Limit those options, and we are forced to pick wisely.” He leaned back in his seat. “Be sure to ask the question with an answer you’ll be able to live with if tomorrow never comes.”

“No pressure.” I pulled my fingers through my unruly curls, my mind suddenly blank now that I had the opportunity to find pieces to the puzzle that would hopefully give me a clearer picture of who Saint really was. What fueled him? What made him hate his father so much that he allowed it to dictate his every move, his every decision?

I looked his way, his eyes focused solely on me. “What did he do that made you hate him so much?”

Saint’s expression turned from stone to shades of amusement, as if he knew this would be my first question. As if I had fallen into his trap just like he knew I would.

He got up from his seat and raked his hand through his disheveled hair. “He lied.”

“About what?”

Saint held up his index finger. “Only one question.”

“But that was hardly an answer.” I jumped to my feet. “Surely I deserve a better answer than that.”

“Ask a better question next time,” he replied before turning and walking toward the door. “You should eat. I’ll arrange for some breakfast to be served out on the deck.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Saint spun around, shooting a hardened glare my way. “Do not act like a petulant child. I warned you to pick wisely. You asked a stupid question, and I gave you the answer it deserved.”

“You gave me the option to pick the question I wanted to ask. It’s not up to you to decide whether it’s stupid or not. This might be some fucking twisted game to you, but I assure you to me it’s not.”

“Is that what you think?” His scowl darkened into a threatening glare. “You think this is some game to me? That I’m merely playing?” He stalked forward, and I instinctively stepped back. “For more than a decade, I’ve been planning all of this—Torres Shipping, my father, your brother…you—and you think I’m just, what? Fucking around?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Mila? Huh? What the fuck are you saying?”

“I wasn’t referring to your dad or this goddamn vendetta you have against him. I was talking about me. About us. About what the fuck is happening between us.”

He continued forward, forcing me to retreat until my back hit the wall. “And what makes you think anything is happening between us?”

This time, I stepped toward him rather than away, meeting his pointed glare and intimidating stance. “You know as well as I do that lines have blurred, and it’s fucking with your head because now you no longer know which side of the line you’re standing on.”

His top lip lifted in a snarl as if he wanted to tear me apart, but I held my head high and refused to allow him to intimidate me any further.

“You’re giving me whiplash, Saint. It’s like you’re two different people. One who doesn’t care about anything other than this war you’ve got going on with your dad.” I approached him with another short step, keeping my eyes focused on his. “Then there’s this other man who seems to want to care about something other than revenge. A man who wants to protect rather than ruin.”

“Are you sure that’s not just what you want to see?” He leaned his head down and reached to touch my chin. “Is that not the ideal of every woman wanting a man who would trade the darkness for light? A man who would change for love?”

“Who said anything about love?”

His grip on my chin tightened abruptly. His liquid gaze slipped down to my mouth, and he bit his lower lip as if he was ravenous to taste me. I wanted him to taste me. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to take whatever it was he wanted from me.

“Do you want to kiss me, Saint?” I challenged as we both teetered at the edge.

He licked his lips.

“Do you want to taste me?” I pushed myself up on my toes and brought my lips inches from his, my heart pounding against my chest. “Do you want to punish me again? Leave me unsatisfied?”

“Don’t.” His top lip curled with warning, yet his eyes darkened with hunger as if I tempted him. Seduced him. Made him want to lose control.

I lifted my chin, and I felt his warm breath against my lips, his grip still firm around my jaw. “You changed. I can see it.”

“I haven’t.”

---