His hands move to his belt, fingers working the leather with maddening slowness. “You provoke me to get some kind of reaction that usually ends with you bending over or on your knees.”
My breath catches. Heat pools low in my belly as I watch him slide the belt from its loops.
“Oh, really?” I try to keep my voice steady, but my nipples are already hard beneath my dress, and there’s a coiling sensation in my abdomen that makes it hard to think straight.
“Really.” He’s standing directly in front of me now. “You say the most unhinged things. You walk around in those dresses and sit on my desk. All a ploy to make me lose control.”
“Maybe I like it when you lose control.”
“Do you?”
“Maybe.”
His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Maybe isn’t good enough.”
Yes,” I whisper. “I like it when you lose control.”
“Good.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Because you’re about to get exactly what you’ve been asking for.”
The door handle suddenly rattles.
His hand immediately drops from my hair as he steps away from where I’m still perched on his desk. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself.
“Uncle, I’ve got?—”
Marco bursts through the door and stops dead when he takes in the scene—Alaric standing stiffly by his desk, me sitting on the edge with my dress slightly disheveled, both of us breathing hard and obviously caught in an intimate moment.
I bite the corner of my lip, heat still coursing through my body from the interrupted encounter.
The silence stretches for several heartbeats as Marco’s eyes dance between us, clearly amused by what he’s walked into.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Marco asks, his voice carefully neutral, but his smirk gives him away.
17
ALARIC
I should have lockedthe door.
I watch Marco take in the scene. He’s trying not to smirk, but I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.
I walk back to my chair with as much dignity as I can manage, sitting down and hoping the desk hides my disheveled state. Kasimira stands near the window, smoothing down her dress and avoiding eye contact with both of us.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, keeping my voice level. “It’s ten p.m. What do you want?”
Marco raises an eyebrow. “I never knew you were opposed to working late at night. You always work late. What changed, Uncle?”
The little bastard is enjoying this.
“Sooo,” Kasimira says brightly. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
She heads for the door, and I watch the sway of her hips with hunger. When she reaches Marco, she gives him a sweet smile that makes me want to put my fist through his face.
“Good night, Marco.”
“Sweet dreams, Kasi.”
After she leaves, Marco settles into the chair across from my desk like he owns the place.
