Page 44 of No Saint

I sigh, “Thank you for the compliment,” I say, tucking Lincoln a little bit closer.

He brings those hazel eyes to my face.

He looked good today, dressed in a black suit with a simple white shirt, unbuttoned at the top to reveal a peak of a hard muscled chest. His mouth was framed by his well groomed dark beard and his hair styled in a tousled way that made it look like it had been run through with fingers.

I swallow, angry at his cruel beauty.

“Please reconsider my offer,leonessa.”

I narrow my eyes, “I’ll make you a deal.”

He smirks, stepping closer to me. I hold Lincoln a little bit tighter but the boy wiggles wanting to get away, squeaking with a warning he’s about to throw a tantrum if I do not put him down. I note the closed door and decide to do so. He crawls away, distracted by the toys left on the floor.

Gabriel watches him before looking back to me, “What kind of deal?”

He’s closer now, so close I can smell his spicy and leathery scent, intoxicating to the senses and a fog on the mind. I tip my head back to keep my eyes on his face, “You tell me what that means,” I breathe, “And I’ll consider your offer.”

He grins, showing off his white teeth. He had a beautiful smile.

Shit. Mentally, I chastise myself for noting such an insignificant point.

He was Gabriel Saint, it didn’t matter that he had a nice damn smile.

He searches my face as if he can read all the thoughts inside my head and I don’t know what divine being I have to thank but I am glad he cannot. He brings his hand to my face and I manage to control my flinch, even if I bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

“Leonessa,” He repeats the word he’s been calling me since day one. His warm finger tucks a tendril of hair behind my ear, “Lioness.” His hand lingers, “It means Lioness, Amelia.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“You are bold,” he tells me, closing a little bit more space between us. I feel his heat, that damning scent now filling my air, seeping into my lungs. His hand moves from my ear to my cheek, cupping it, thumb gently circling. It was a steadying pressure, a calming and welcomed sensation. How long had it been since I’d been touched in any capacity? How long since someone took care of me? “Fearless. Your independence drives you, you empower yourself. And yet, deep within you, you have a gentleness about you, a part of you that dominates, even subconsciously. Your need to nurture and protect the thing that matters most compels your every move.”

“You don’t know me,” I whisper, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears behind my eyes.

“Not yet but I know enough to know that. I knew that the moment I stepped into your apartment.”

His thumb presses into my bottom lip, pushing it down just a small amount before he relieves that pressure and instead traces the curve of it. Goose bumps break out across my skin, my stomach knotting and heart rate spiking.

“My reputation precedes me, Amelia, you know of the things I do, what harm I have done. And yet, knowing this, knowing my intentions that day, you still fought. You fought with all you had, and you continue to do so. I’ve seen men piss themselves in my presence and yet you hold the courage of a thousand.”

I sense no deception in his words, only truth spoken from a man who I have no doubt has seen all sorts of people, all sorts of horrors and violence. Frozen in place I stare up at him, his own eyes bouncing between mine.

He was so close, so close I could smell the mint on his breath, see the flecks of gold that speckle his eyes. My toes lift me from the floor, bringing me in as he leans, and then his lips touch mine and sparks go off inside my mind. Warm, soft lips, far too pleasant for a man like him and this kiss, it isn’t like the kiss on our wedding day that was all punishment. This one was a question, a request for more.

His hand slides around to the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair and as he goes to deepen the kiss, my lips parting, warning bells ring loudly in my ears.

Wrong.Wrong.

He took your freedom.

He kidnapped you.

Letting him haveanypart of you is a losing game.

I stumble away from him, breaking the kiss. His head hangs as he sighs loudly and I step round him, going to the opposite side of the room to put distance between us.

“Thank you, I will consider,” I hate myself for how weak my voice sounds, for how much my body burns and lips tingle.

“Amelia–” he starts but gets cut off as the door slams open and Atlas fills the space.

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