Page 37 of The Wicked

I swallowed hard. “H-h-how did you recognise me?”

His thumb skated over my bottom lip. “I’d know this mouth anywhere.”

Someone coughed, and too late, the spell was broken and I remembered we had an audience. Three of Baldwin’s Shore’s older residents were staring at us from the art table, their mouths hanging open, and Paulo had his hands pressed to his face like an Edvard Munch painting. Darla cleared her throat.

“Why don’t you talk in the break room, hun? It’s a bit more private.”

“Not a bad idea,” Charming murmured, and that asshole was still holding me. I elbowed him in the stomach, taking a small measure of satisfaction in theoofthat sounded behind me as I strode in the direction of the break room. But I wasn’t thinking straight today. I should have run out the front door. By the time my thoughts caught up with my feet, Charming was right behind me, and goosebumps popped out on my arms as I prepared to face him for the first time without the safety blanket of a mask. I hesitated before I turned. Dreams of him had given me a tiny respite from the nightmares, but what if the reality didn’t match up?

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Charming’s hand skimmed my hip. “Sara.”

“We’re not on the dance floor anymore.” His hand fell away as I whirled to face him. “Keep your distance.”

Holy smokes, he was even more handsome than I imagined. Today, his hair was tousled rather than slicked back, and he’d ditched the epaulettes in favour of black jeans, a grey T-shirt, and biker boots. From Prince Charming to the Prince of Darkness, definitely not my type at all. Not that I had much of a type. If there was one characteristic that my handful of past relationships had shared, it was poor judgment.

Meanwhile, Charming was sizing me up, and I couldn’t read his expression. Disappointment? Annoyance? Incredulity? He’d gone to the effort of tracking me down, only to find that without my team of fairy godmothers, I was just a dull, mousy-haired nobody who hadn’t even ironed her shirt this morning.

He perched on the arm of the couch, arms folded. “You’re a hard woman to find, Sara.”

“Then why bother?”

“That’s a question I’ve asked myself a hundred times over the past week.”

“And what’s the answer?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I don’t like unfinished business.”

“You’ve never had a woman walk away from you before?”

“You didn’t walk. You ran.”

“Aw, did that put a dent in your ego?”

What was wrong with me? I never spoke to people this way.

“A small one, but don’t worry; it’ll recover.” A pause. “I’ve been to a hundred of those events, and I didn’t expect to enjoy anything about that evening.” His gaze met mine. “I was wrong.”

What was that supposed to mean? “You’re…a big fan of cake pops?”

“Yeah, Cinderella, the cake pops were a hit. And so was the woman eating them.”

“But…but I’m not her.”

“I might be many things, but I’m not stupid. I recognise your voice, indignant then uncertain. I recognise the way your lips flatten in a thin line when I do something you don’t like.” Charming stood and took a step closer. “I recognise that little flutter of fear in the pulse at your neck.”

I also took a step, a big one, backward, and my ass hit the counter on the other side of the break room.

“Well, I mean obviously I dressed up as Cinderella last week, but that wasn’t the real me. I don’t usually do that kind of thing.”

“You’re the good girl, huh? You don’t crash parties and steal phones and dance sexy salsas with strangers?”

“I only meant to borrow the phone.”

“Any comment on the sexy salsa?”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. Dopamine, endorphins, and lust.” He ran one finger over my cheek, and I shivered. “For one night, you let down your guard and lived for the moment. You might have been wearing a mask, but what I sawwasthe real you.” Another step. “And I want to see that woman again.”

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