“What do you think?”
A fire licks up my spine as he pauses, then curls his fingers against me, leaving indentations where he grips. The pressure is delightful, and my throat contracts around nothing, desire searing the inside.
“I think you’re dangerous.”
Covering his hand with mine, I slide it even higher, over my side and up to the curve of my breast. Without my coat, the outline is perfectly visible, and my muscles cinch tight with the contact.
He doesn’t resist, just lets me do what I want, and I find that oddly fascinating.
“Dangerous,” I mutter, letting my palm fall to his chest. I fan my fingers out, waiting to see what he does next. If he’s an actor who takes stage direction into his own hands or one that needs guidance all the way through. “Is that another one of your theories?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“No more than you.” I slip my pinkie beneath a gap in his neckline, touching bare skin. “Besides, you seem like someone with answers.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replies, his words barely audible as his thumb grazes the underside of my breast ever so gently. “I know very little, actually. Everything inside was a lucky guess.”
His featherlight touch makes me dizzy. “So you’re not omnipotent?”
“Pattern recognition and heightened observation skills. Nothing terribly fancy, I’m afraid.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re deflecting.”
“Yes.” He glances at my lips, licking his. “I am.”
“Why?”
“You make me nervous.”
“Oh.”
“Not in abadway,” he adds quickly. “In ayou could probably ruin my life and I wouldn’t stop youway.”
Heat flares in my abdomen, radiating downward. “Are you always so honest?”
“No,” he whispers.
I hum, leaning forward so our noses brush. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
He smells like apricots and trees, cedar or pine. Like danger and bad decisions.
“What would I get for lying? If anything, I’m the vulnerable one here.”
“You could overpower me if you wanted.”
There’s a long pause, but eventually his free hand comes up, his thumb plucking lazily at my bottom lip. Again, his touch is icy, and I wonder if it’s because of how warm my skin feels.
“Not the kind of vulnerability I’m talking about there, temptress.”
My heart hammers in my throat. “I have a name.”
A dark glint flashes in his gaze. He swallows, allowing that same hand to fall before sliding it around my waist. My dress hikes up my thighs, leaving just his pants and the thin fabric of my underwear between us.
Slowly, he leans in, disturbing the snake charm choker fastened at my throat and skimming his nose along my collarbone. Inhaling me. “What is it?”
I can barely hear him. “What is what?”
His chuckle sends goose bumps spraying down my arms. “Your name.”
