Can I steal you away tomorrow evening?
Her lips formed a mischievous smile as she stared at the message. Arden tapped out a reply, letting her wit mask the flutter in her chest.
Stealing usually requires something valuable.
Gideon’s response was immediate, as though he’d been anticipating hers.
Then you won’t mind indulging me.
She hesitated, thumb poised above the screen, before sending another teasing retort.
What makes you so sure I don’t mind?
This time his silence stretched intentionally, making her wait. When his reply finally came, it landed hard, sending her pulse racing.
Because I’ve learned to tell when you do.
She stared at the message, her pulse thudding beneath her skin. Penny’s fingers continued to tap quietly beside her.
Swallowing the warmth creeping up her neck, Arden locked the screen and slipped her phone away, then turned her gaze toward the rain-streaked window.
But her reflection betrayed her, the subtle curve of her lips impossible to suppress.
Some flames burned too fiercely to ignore.
And Gideon Blackwell might be the one to leave her scorched.
From the shadows,he watched.
Gideon stood beneath the streetlight, hands in his pockets, the golden glow casting him in false divinity.
Serene. Sculpted. Untouchable.
Gideon Blackwell, the man who played god.
But tonight, the mask had slipped.
Tonight, the cracks bled through.
That kiss had broken him.
He’d seen it. How Gideon stiffened, spine gone taut like prey caught in the jaws of something stronger.
It was remarkable.
The unshakable, ice-veined heir brought low by her.
By Arden.
She had moved through the rain like lightning—raw, unrelenting, a storm made flesh.
She had kissed him, and Gideon had drunk her in.
Desperate. Starved.
Pathetic.
How dare he touch her?
