The entire warehouse, all however many thousands of square feet, seemed to hold his scent. I took a deep breath in but immediately let it out before I forced my feet to move. As soon as I did, he started up the stairs and I followed. The entire upper level seemed to have more windows than the lower. Actually, except for the brick that separated the rooms, it seemed to be all glass in the back.
He flung a hand in a few directions as we passed—bedroom, bathroom, blah, blah, blah—like he was checking stops off of his list. Then he said something that made me stop.
“Library.” He waved a hand at the door.
He kept going, but I stepped inside of the room, wanting to see what kind of library a marauder had. It was fucking fantastic. There were leather sofas placed strategically around the room, all in front of the stretching windowpanes, and the ceiling was made of varying shades of wood. The walls? They were bookshelves.
I ran my hand along one, feeling the spines of so many experiences against my palms.
“That one there,” Kelly said from behind me, “you might like.”
After removing my hand from the wall, I turned to face him.
He nodded toward an area that had been set up to resemble a coffee shop. It even had a laptop on it.
I moved toward it and picked up the book. Daphne du Maurier.
My father was a quiet man, but there were two things he taught me: how to read and how to shoot a bow and arrow. He’d said both would give me a power that no man could steal.
Reading was something I hadn’t done in a while, though, not since I moved out on my own and had responsibilities.
I ran my hand across the cover of the book, knowing Mari would love it here, too. Sometimes when I used to hang out with her in the city, when she was trying to lay low after she left her foster parents’ place, we would spend time at the library together.
“Why are you a marauder?” I said, testing him.
Even though I didn’t turn my eyes from the book, I could sense his grin. “Why do you shoot arrows?”
Ah, he wasn’t just a ruthless gangster with only vengeance on his mind.. He’d read the book.
“Because of the danger, because of the speed, because I might miss,” I said, changing the quote up a bit. “I didn’t take you for a reader.”
“You don’t take me for a lot of things. Only one.”
“It’s hard to know anything else when it’s all that surrounds you. Mayhem.”
A few minutes passed, and when I looked up, Kelly was beside me, a necklace dangling from his hand. “You say a heart can’t be stolen, darlin’, but I beg to differ.”
I went to take it from him, but he moved it back a bit, grinning. This time when the necklace came forward, I stopped it from swinging back and forth like a pendulum and studied it. The pendant at the end of the gold chain was heart-shaped—a literal heart, veins and arteries included—and it seemed to be a locket. It had a smallish keyhole at the bottom.
“What’s inside?” I asked, holding the pendant between my fingers, studying all of the grooves.
He was quiet for so long that I looked up again.
“You’ll see when you find your way in,” he said. “Just remember. Just because it looks a certain way doesn’t mean it is a certain way. There’s more than one way inside of a heart.”
I took the necklace from him and slipped it over my neck. It sat against my heart, and I wondered if it was going to steal the beats, since its master was a thief.
“If you think things—” I flashed the expensive engagement ring and then the pendant at him “—can buy me, you’re wrong, Kelly.”
“Rarely,” he said, sliding his thumb slowly from my cheek to my neck. “You burn for me when I touch you.” He whispered the words, but he’d meant for me to hear.
I hated that he was right. I burned for him beyond relief. His touch had been a caress, barely there, but it had felt like hot wax dripping down my skin. There was no way to hide my attraction to him, not when heat crept up my neck and desire painted me red.
“I am attracted to you.” I had to take a deep, deep breath, because my skin was not the only traitor. I knew he could smell the desire on me. His nostrils kept flaring, like he was scenting the air around me, reading signals I hadn’t identified yet. “But that means nothing. If you think I’m going to fuck you because you forced me into this, think again. That’smydecision.”
“Let’s get a few things straight.” For the first time since I’d met him, his features hardened, and I could truly feel the killer in him. He slaughtered thela de daattitude to let the animal free of its cage. “You spend time with me while we’re both here. You don’t.” He shrugged. “Your choice. This place is big enough for the both of us. You sleep in my bed. You don’t.” He shrugged again. “Your choice. I like my space. You fuck me. You don’t. That’s your choice. That’s the one thing I’d never steal.”
He took a second, staring me down, before he spoke again. “I don't have a heart, which means no feelings, but I do have a brain. The same one I use to read all of these books. I know the difference between willing or not. ‘Not’ doesn’t get a real man hard, darlin’.” He released me from his stare, about to walk out, when he stopped and turned to me. “There is one choice you don’t have. You’ll eat dinner with me. Every night.”
