Page 58 of Ensnared

“You—Youactually have a secret passageway.Behinda bookcase.”Ipinch my nose under my glasses, trying to control my rapid, startled breathing. “DidIreally just see that?”

Jasper’shead snaps up, and his eyes run over me with cool precision.Hisface barely shifts, but amusement warms his eyes ever so slightly and thatofffeeling recedes.Hewalks toward me with the casual grace of a dancer, as though that instabilityIspotted was a dream.

“Alittle on the nose, perhaps, butIcouldn’t resist.Mystudy,” he explains, “and whereIoperate our surveillance.”

Inod weakly.Searchingfor something to say,Iglance around the room. “Ican’t believe you didn’t show me this library.”Ismile at him. “It’slovely.”

“I’vebeen enjoying sharing my favorites with you.”Hislips curl up on one side. “AndIwas worriedI’dlose you in here.”

Ilet out a little laugh. “Youstill might.”

Heplucks the book from my hands;Ididn’t even realizeIwas gripping it.

“Ah,Nietzsche.Ifind his thoughts on master–slave morality fascinating,” he murmurs.

Pausing,Iscan his forbidding features from under the rim of my glasses.Hissweet, comforting silence is apparently over, and there’s something behind his words that puts me on guard.Ican’t help but rememberBeau’swords—Imight expect her to look like this afterJasper.

Nervousnessthrills up my spine, andIbite my lip. “Ifind it hard to relate to anyone who thinks that ‘Tosee others suffer does one good, to make others suffer even more.’It’sa rather permissive opinion, don’t you think?”

Thefirst full smileI’veseen from him creases his cheek, andIcan’t help but stare at the pleat, my heart stuttering.Hecatches my stare, absorbing me for the first time since the first time we spoke.Thatofffeeling has entirely vanished, andIfeel myself floating into his orbit again.Alonein a beautiful abyss with a perilous man.

Somethingpredatory glints in his eyes. “Iwonder if you’ll feel that way at the end of the week.”

Myeyes narrow, and my romantic imaginings skid to a halt.Didhe mean that as the threat it sounded like?

BeforeIcan respond,Jaspercontinues smoothly, “Buta somewhat simplistic interpretation; he also said, ‘Mistrustall in whom the impulse to punish is powerful.’”

Iblink.Didhe just—?Itisn’t oftenI’vebeen calledsimplistic.Mylips curve in a wry smile. “So, shouldImistrust you,Jasper?”

Imeant it as a joke, butIdon’t win another smile.

Hereplaces the book carefully, then studies me.Amoment of silence, then another, andIbecome very aware of his hard body right before me and the considering weight of his gaze.Iremember the dangerous confidence with which he spoke toDomthis morning and shiver.

“Onlyif you have done something that warrants punishment,” he says finally.

Unbidden, thoughts ofHenrycome to mind, andIonly just stop myself from flinching.Heliked his little punishments too.Nothingphysical, never that, but he had a perfect knack for petty cruelty.

Beforeemotion can swamp me,Iturn back to the bookshelf and reply, “Showme someone who hasn’t in this world.”Determinedto change the subject,Ishake my head and study the books. “Nooffense, but this library looks like it was put together by a monkey.”

Jaspersteps in close behind me. “Moreinsults.You’rerather free with them.”

He’swarm and close enough thatIcan sense his every movement, but far enough that we aren’t touching.Givingme the choice to lean back or not.

Ihesitate, torn between shyness and slow, slippery desire.Instinctively,Itilt my head until the breeze of his breath stirs the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck.Ishudder.

Darnit, is no topic safe with this blasted man?

Desperateto escape his confusing nearness,Idrop into a crouch and pullTheWitchesfree.

Comparedto the bookish coziness of his presence from the last few days, the sudden onslaught ofJasper’sattention feels like a lethal advance.Itmakes my adrenaline pump and flight instincts flare, warning me torun, runnow, becauseI’msuddenly sure he’s done it on purpose, that he laid his trap and lured me in with books and quiet company, and soon he’ll have me pinned, at his mercy, and that’s just...

Iswallow hard.Bad?That’sbad, right?

Myfingers quiver on the illustrated cover, andIconsider that my new position at his feet may not have been the best choice.Hispresence over me is delightfully omnipotent and reminds me powerfully ofJaykob’shand tangling in my hair whileIknelt for him and—

No!Stop,Eden.Whaton earth is getting into me these days?

“D-do you have an interest in philosophy, then?”Iask, flustered and embarrassingly breathless.Honestly, it would really help matters ifIdidn’t sound like some scarlet woman out of a low-budget pornographic film.

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