Page 89 of Hearts of Stone

“More than life itself.” I stared up at him. “If you have a magic broom, or a flying carpet or, shit, I’d even jump through a magical portal, I’ll take it, if that’s what it takes to get out of here.” My hand went to my neck, resting over the top of the bite without pressing down but still feeling a shadow of the pleasure we’d shared last night. But this time, it came with a flush of shame and I dropped my gaze. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Why ever not?” At his question, I looked up at him again, wondering if I should tell him. Then I saw that his eyes hadfollowed the path of my hand, and I watched as his pupils flared slightly at the sight of the mark on my neck. “Oh.” His eyes flicked around the room, narrowing slightly. “And let me guess, you’ve set the old biddies a-clucking because you’ve dared to do the one thing all of them are forbidden from doing.” Those blue eyes met mine. “Yet all of them have wished they could.”

He reached across to where my hand still hovered over my neck and his touch burned hot. My cheeks heated as he gently lifted my fingers up to reveal the mark, rubbed the knuckles with his thumb before letting go.

“You needn’t have bothered with makeup to hide the mark, if that’s what you were doing?”

“I was.” My eyes dropped down as if I’d become fascinated by the design of the perfectly patterned wooden floor. “It looks a mess. There’s the bite itself, and then a bunch of bruising—”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Adam was suddenly all seriousness, stopping and turning to me to stare intently at me until I lifted my gaze to his. “That requires an answer, you know that, right?”

“No, he didn’t hurt me.” My body tightened, remembering just how unhurt I was. “Well, only when I asked him too.” This conversation felt insanely intimate, a feeling exacerbated as he stepped closer. It was only now that I saw that the broad sweep of his shoulders, perfectly outlined by the excellent cut of his suit, was almost wide enough to block out the whole room. “It was consensual, everything that happened.”

“Was it, indeed?” His voice had dropped to a low purr that set off a dangerous throbbing deep inside me. He stood so close, his head bent down to mine, all his attention on me, and in turn he filled my field of view as though no-one else existed. If I half-closed my eyes, the similarities between Adam and my gargoyles became more obvious. I couldn’t help but think of how my gargoyles had used their resonant voices to such effect,how their bodies had similarly become my whole focus, and that made me think of each one of them. Carrick, certainly, he’d have relished keeping me all to himself in this grand room, or even dour Graven, but Seneca… I forced myself to push past his name, because as soon as I thought of him, memories tumbled in like waves and I had to take a few quick little breaths to keep my head above water. Adam’s voice broke through my reverie, startling me, and I looked back up at him as he spoke. “Now, then. I assume you don’t want to heal up the actual bitemarks themselves, so…”

He reached out, one hand coming to rest on my shoulder, the other going to the opposite side, where the mating mark was, and ghosting over my skin to slide underneath the silky strands of pearls near the bite. The loop tightened just a little around my neck to accommodate his fingers before the pearls moved past each other to loosen, and the pressure eased. Then, he brushed his fingers across the bite. Shivers of pleasure washed through me, forcing me to hungrily pull breaths in as I rode each wave. When he moved his hand away and settled it on my shoulder, I wanted to snatch it back. I wanted to press his fingers against the mark again, because when he touched me, it was entirely different to what it had felt like when I’d done it. His strong, masculine fingers had slight calluses on the fingertips that sent up small explosions of pleasure every time they snagged on my skin. Although I hadn’t got what I’d come here for, I knew what I wanted. I didn’t want judgemental bitches judging me by a yardstick I didn’t respect, I wanted this.

“I…”

His voice had changed entirely, becoming deeper, raspier, as if that urbane facade of his had cracked; as if something else—something that lived beneath—was rising.

Something dangerously enticing.

Adam moved closer until his suit coat brushed against my jacket, as though our clothing was ready to get the party started before we were. But as our proximity increased, a belated voice of caution sounded in my head. Despite the magnetic effect he was having on me, I wasn’t looking for anything like that with him. I didn’t have… anything with Adam. I barely even knew him and—

“Don’t let anyone here stop you from doing what’s right.” His hand was firm under my chin as he tipped my eyes up to meet his. “You owe no one an explanation. You have been declared queen of your little domain. Act like it.”

I studied his face, unable to look away, because, of all the witches and warlocks in the crowded room, it felt like those penetrating blue eyes of his were the only friendly ones. I was vaguely conscious of other people moving around, talking, eating, drinking or whatever. For a moment I wondered about who might be watching us, but I shut that thought down. They were all a backdrop to what was happening between the two of us.

As though Adam was the Wulf I dared to touch, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and felt the rapid beat of his pulse under his skin that told me he was affected as much as I was. He was the one who stared into my eyes and saw me. Although, it was more than that. Every woman at that table had seen me as well, dressed in clothes that weren’t me, at the sort of event I wouldn’t choose to come to, both of which made me feel uncomfortable. But those women had seen me through the lens of privilege and snobbery, judging me for being me. Adam, on the other hand, pushed past that. He saw to the core of me and declared me queen. And that was so seductive.

As we stared at each other, a sudden feeling of heat rose within me. His gaze dropped to my lips as they fell open. I took in short gasps of air, clinging to his wrist with both hands nowas sensation rushed through me. My clothes felt too heavy, too constrictive. And the room no longer seemed spacious and fresh; instead it was as though the air had become thick with humidity. I felt hot, far too hot, and he was the one who’d made me feel that way. His eyes were still on my mouth as I continued to gasp in air, and he rubbed the backs of his fingers along my jawline. Then turning his hand over, he traced his thumb across my skin, his gaze moving to watch its progress towards my lips. When he reached the corner of my mouth, he smiled and his eyes flicked back up to mine as he lifted his thumb from my skin. But before he could run it across the slick of lipstick on my lips, someone broke the spell.

“Adam, I need… Oh.” A woman in a power suit had approached, looking up from a clipboard as she reached us to see as we pulled apart and turned towards her. She smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry, but, Adam, we need you up on the stage.”

“Of course.” Whatever the hell had been going on between us, Adam managed to pack it away behind a congenial facade. He turned to me, a pleasant smile on his face. “My apologies, but duty calls.”

“Right, yeah, go,” I said, trying too damn hard to be cool and failing miserably. I forced myself to shut my mouth tight and take some very slow breaths in and out, managing to calm my racing pulse and feel a little less heated.

“But if you decide to hang around, maybe we could go for a drink after all of this?”

When I’d been newly single, I’d day-dreamed about something similar: for some amazingly hot guy in a suit to see me across a crowded supermarket and ask me if I wanted to go out sometime. Adam’s question pretty much ticked all the boxes of that scenario. So why was I feeling so guilty? The gargoyles seemed perfectly happy to share me with each other. But wouldthat extend to including a warlock, especially with the way the Whiteley warlocks had treated them? I couldn’t answer that question, which made clear to me that I couldn’t encourage this.

No matter how much I might have liked to.

But, before I could answer, a voice boomed over the PA system.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!” a woman said, as she beamed out at the congregation. “If I could get everyone to take their seats, then the fun can begin!”

“I’ve got to go,” Adam said, “but… if you decide you’re interested, remember: whisper my name on the wind.” And with a wink, he was gone.

“I acquired a paddle for you.” I turned to see Mellors standing behind me, an auction paddle in his hand. “I thought you might like to bid on some of the auction pieces.”

“I don’t think—”

“Winning them is considered very prestigious,” he continued. “It also drives the women here mad. They are all dressed so very nicely, but each one uses haute couture and designer perfume to cloak her ambition. These auctions are ostensibly to support a range of worthwhile charities. But, really, they’re an opportunity to get one over on the others.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of game I want to play,” I told him sternly.

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