Page 107 of Seducing the Knave

The candlelight behind her was a small point in the reflection and shadows spread all around. But she could see Max clearly enough.

His commanding presence. His lean, muscled form. His sharp, wolfish gaze.

That smirk.

She tensed.

Damn him. He knew. He knew this was all a show. An act built on stubborn pride and desperate hope.

No doubt he could easily see how badly she wanted to go to him. He could probably scent her desire all the way across the room.

Well, fine.

Just because he suspected her bluff didn’t mean she had to give up the game. Perhaps she should double down instead.

Giving a huge sigh, she glanced away from his reflection to study her own in the mirror. “You probably shouldn’t have come,” she noted casually.

“Why not?” His tone had a slightly hardened edge.

Leaning forward, Elle lightly traced the arch of her eyebrow with a fingertip. “Your presence here could signal to your enemies that this house contains something of value to you.” She paused to run her finger along the curve of her bottom lip. “And we both know that’s not true.”

“It ain’t?” His response was a dark whisper that was far too close.

Somehow, he’d managed to approach her without a sound to stand beyond her left shoulder where she couldn’t see him in the mirror.

Though her entire body lit up at his unexpected nearness and the cocky sensuality in his voice, she refused to turn around.

She sat up straighter on the bench and tossed the length of hair over her shoulder. When she reached for the silver brush resting on the vanity, his hand shot out to grab it first. With a start, she looked up to see him standing directly behind her.

His eyes gleamed—fierce and focused.

A shiver of delight chased over her skin. Desire twisted through her core.

Then he gathered her hair in his hand and gently pulled the brush through the curling tresses. Intent on his task, it was a moment before he spoke again. “What if I told ye this house holds the most precious thing in the world to me?” he asked in a deceptively conversational tone.

Though everything inside her hummed with the sizzling connection between them, Elle forced herself to reply flippantly, “I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised that you’d have a cache of jewels stashed somewhere about.”

The long and steady strokes of the brush through her hair stilled. His gaze lifted to meet hers in the mirror. “Not a cache, luv,” he murmured. “Just one priceless gem.”

Elle tried really hard to sound nonchalant, but her voice refused to cooperate and her next words came out embarrassingly breathless. “If it’s so precious, why part with it at all? Why not keep it close?”

Max set the brush down and slipped his hand beneath her hair to run his knuckles along her nape. Tingling sparks shot through her.

“It’d be wrong to keep something so flawless and fine in such a crude setting.”

His large hands came to rest at the base of her throat and his glinting stare held hers as he brushed his thumbs along her jawline in a whisper-light caress. With her mind a whirlwind of scattered thoughts being blown about by rising desire and the reckless hope of her love for this man, it took a moment for Elle to form a response.

“You think it better to trap it in gold filigree and lock it in a velvet case?”

“It’d be safe,” he muttered.

“Safe but untouched,” she whispered. “Unloved.”

“Never that.” The raw nature of his voice—the depth of emotion there—finally broke her.

Elle turned suddenly to face him. His hands dropped to his sides and she tipped her head to look up at him with a frown. “But I’m not a gem,” she noted sharply. “I’m certainly not flawless and I’m sure as hell not some object you can move about according to your whim. I choose where I belong, Max. Not you.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he arched his brows and twisted his lips into that cocky smirk she knew so well. And loved so completely. “And where’s that, princess?”

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