Page 62 of Vicious Hearts

Possibly all three.

“Follow me.”

When I stubbornly plant my feet, he turns back to me, his eyes raking over my skin and his lips curling sardonically.

“Alternatively, I could carry you over my fucking shoulder,withoutthe towel. You get to decide in three, two—”

“Okay, okay!” I blurt. “Okay, fine. I’ll follow you.”

As he starts to turn back to the door, my eyes drift to the black marble vanity.

To the gleaming silver straight-edge razor sitting on a little stand.

“Don’t even think it.”

I jolt, my gaze ripping back to him—to the thin smile on his lips.

“I—”

“Save yourself the embarrassment and me the effort of restraining you. It’s not going to happen.”

I glare at him. Cillian shrugs and starts to turn away.

In a flash, I lunge for the blade. But he’s right.

It’s not going to happen.

I gasp sharply as he suddenly grabs me in his powerful arms, and freakingtosses meover his shoulder—ass up.

“You fucking prick!” I scream, pounding on his back as Cillian ignores me.

And carries me, kicking and screaming like a mad thing, into his bedroom.

14

UNA

My pulse roars—whetherfrom fear, anticipation, or something between the two, I couldn’t say. But no. He keeps walking—past the huge bed, out of the bedroom itself, and back down the hall into the main area. He carries me into the kitchen, keeping me right there on his shoulder as he yanks open the fridge and rummages inside.

Then he turns, striding over to a dining area next to a wall of black-iron framed factory windows looking out across the East River to Manhattan. Oh. We’re in Brooklyn.

I shiver as he sits, pulling me off his shoulder and onto his lap. I blush as I feel his muscled thigh beneath me, where the not-that-large towel is barely covering my ass.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

I glance down at the plate of fruit, cheese, crackers, and charcuterie in front of us. My back straightens, my lips thinning defiantly.

“Ieat,” I mutter.

“I didn’t ask if you consume food. I asked when the last time it was that youdid. And I mean a full meal. Not tuna fish out of the can that you had to share with the cat.”

My face heats—embarrassment mixed with the terrified feeling of knowing just how closely he was watching me.

“Why the fuck do you care?”

My breath catches as his hand wraps around the nape of my neck.

“One of us has tried to stab the other,twice. Dial back the shitty attitude.”

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