“He touched you!” Tristan snarled.
“No more than I asked!” She flung back.
Tristan stopped trying to still her fists and wrenched off his mask; revealing a look of pure bewilderment.
“Youwantedhim to touch you?” He asked.
Ophelia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he reached out and tugged her mask off before she could stop him. She pressed her lips tightly together, glaring at him.
“Answer my question,” Tristan demanded, looming over her. “Did you want him to touch you?”
No, you idiot! I wantyouto touch me!
“Why does it matter?” She asked instead, keeping the burning thought to herself. “It is not as if I am yours? You made it clear by your actions this evening that you can barely stand to talk to me anymore.”
Tristan’s lips drew into a feral snarl as his nostril’s flared and his eyes darkened; making him look downright predatory.
“Ineversaid that,” he stated, punctuating the word never.
“No,” she agreed, crossing her arms over her chest, “You have barely said anything!”
“My silence does not give you the right to break my rules!” Tristan snapped, pointing over her shoulder at the door. “You know you do not mingle with my members without me. Youknowthat you are not approach anyone alone.”
“And why is that?” She demanded, then put up a hand to stop him from a tirade.
“I know you say it is for my protection, but I am starting to doubt that. What is the matter, Tristan? Worried someone else might want to speak to me? Touch me? Are you jealous?”
Tristan let out a bitter laugh that ripped through Ophelia’s feelings.
“Jealous? What do I have to be jealous of?” He asked, his tone cruel.
Tears stung at Ophelia’s eyes. Such cruelty had been a staple of their relationship at one time, but she realized right then and there that she had gotten far too comfortable with the more seductive side of Tristan. Suddenly feeling foolish, she turned her back to him, and began packing up her crate.
“What are you doing?” Tristan demanded, “You are not finished.”
“I believe I am,” she replied, hating that her voice trembled. “No need to pay me for the fourth painting. I understand I am leaving it unfinished.”
Tristan’s hand wrapped around arm, but his grip was gentle as urged her to turn around. Part of her wanted to fight his touch, but the other part, the part that was growing soft and confused about what was happening to her, had her turning to face him.
“Ophelia that was far too unkind for me to say,” he said, his tone unbearably gentle. “Your accusation just caught me off guard.”
When she refused to look at him she felt his fingertips wrap gently around her chin and lift her eyes to his.
“I am not jealous, but I am protective,” he stated with a firm but gentle tone. “While you are under my employ you are mine to protect, and I cannot allow you to be hurt.”
For some reason, his rational explanation hurt more than his quick fire retort. Still, that did not stop the lust that floodedthrough her as the wordmineslipped from his lips and she wondered- what would it like to be his?Trulyhis.
His caressing touch moved from her chin up to her cheek, sending sparks throughout her entire body. She needed to move. Needed to get away from him before her confusion grew worse.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, stepping closer, his eyes shimmering with regret, “I did not mean to hurt you. You do not deserve such harshness.”
“Tristan,” she breathed, closing her eyes to the arousal overtaking her, “Step. Away.”
“No,” he whispered, drawing close enough for her to feel his warm breath fan across her lips.
“Not until you understand.”
She forced her eyes open, immediately regretting it as she instantly got caught in his gaze. She didn’t understand. Why he was acting like this? Why she was reacting this way? She only knew one thing in that moment- she wanted to him. Forgetting everything else and giving into that sole desire, she rose to her toes, and kissed him.
