Page 49 of Unraveling Charlotte

His smile widens, revealing a flicker of the man behind the enigmatic exterior. “Calling you ‘dove’ earlier would have tipped my hand too soon.”

“And now?” I press, desperate for clarity amidst the storm of uncertainty.

His voice drops into a low, smoky timbre that caresses the edges of my consciousness. “I’m impatient, Charlotte.”

Impatient for what? My pulse quickens as my mind spins, trying to grasp the elusive threads of his intentions. “Why are you here, Lyric?” I persist, my voice holding an edge of frustration. “Don’t I deserve the truth?”

The lash of his response slashes through the air, leaving a sting on my psyche. “No,” he retorts, the word ringing with finality, shutting down my hopes of straightforward answers.

Annoyance wipes away caution. “Can you answer one question?” I ask as he walks around my living room, his fingers barely grazing my things.

He glances up through his long lashes. It’s a sultry look that sends heat through my body. That’s the problem here.

I’m attracted to the danger. I want him to wrap me up in it. I always played it safe, I followed the rules, and I got hurt.

What if toeing the line of madness is where I’ll find safety?

He ignores my question, watching me silently.

“Am I in danger?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, but it cuts through the charged air.

“Yes,” he replies with unflinching candor.

“From you?” The words emerge like an exhale, an unwitting admission of my pull toward him.

A teasing glint flashes in his eyes. “Didn’t we already have this discussion?” he mocks gently, his steps leading him around the back of the couch. He peeks through the curtains, where the windows reveal a view of the world beyond, but he doesn’t spare a glance outside. His focus remains entirely on me—a predator stalking its prey.

I take a cautious step back, putting a little more distance between us. His lips curl into a knowing smirk as he observes my retreat. “We did discuss this. I’m curious about whether I should fear the man who snuck into my basement.”

His gaze remains fixed on me, the predatory intensity glinting in his eyes sending a jolt of unease down my spine. “No,” he responds, his voice conveying calculated assurance.

“And should I worry about encountering more like him?” My heartbeat seems to echo in my ears as I pose the question, fully aware of the gravity it carries.

“Yes.” His reply lands like a weight, triggering an erratic rhythm within my chest.

“Because you let me live?” I venture, my voice holding a mix of skepticism and intrigue.

He steps around the coffee table with an almost feline grace, keeping pace with my movements. “No,” he states as he closes the gap between us, the tension in the room increasing palpably.

“Then why?” My brows furrow, a wrinkle of confusion forming on my forehead.

He fixes his gaze on me, his words cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Because you exist.”

That answer takes me aback, catching me off guard. I blink, trying to process the weight of his words. “I feel like a pawn in some bigger scheme when I’m around you.”

“You are,” he confirms, his voice carrying a note of cold reality that only intensifies my frustration. His words are simple yet electrifying, chasing my arousal and transforming it into frustration. “Go to bed, Charlotte. I’ll keep you safe.”

I cross my arms, irritation and uncertainty fueling my stance. “So, what? Do you want me to just go to bed now? That’s your grand plan?”

A fluid motion brings him to the edge of the couch, and with a swift leap, he’s before me, his hand snaking around my low ponytail to tilt my head back. His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “You wonder why I’m protecting you?”

“Is that what you’re doing?” My palm rests against his chest, and I curl my fingers into his wool coat.

“No,” he whispers.

“Touching me isn’t a part of keeping me safe, is it?”

“No.” He nips my ear. “You didn’t flinch,” he says, finally giving me what I want. “That’s how I know you are mine, dove.”

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