Apparently finding nothing, Mr. Bounds sat back on his heels and braced his forearms on his bent knees. His frown deepened. One hand reached out again to just barely rest the tips of his claws on the curve of her knee. She could feel the tiniest prick of them through the fabric.
Danger,instincts wailed.Danger!
And yet, when his touch firmed, the pads of his fingers whispering against her knee, Zia didn’t flinch away. Instead, her pulse found a new home between her thighs. A deep, luscious ache made her internal muscles contract.
Danger,instincts wailed again.
Danger,desire whispered back.Gorgeous, delicious danger.
Mr. Bounds’s shoulders tensed. His voice was slightly rougher when he said, “I didn’t find any injuries, but—”
Feeling her entire body flush with red-hot embarrassment and something much, much worse, she cut him off. “I’m really,reallyfine. I promise.”
“Then why are you here? You should be… home.” Those night-glow eyes moved slowly over her face, then down her body. One eyebrow arched. “And why are you covered in dirt?”
She swallowed, but the lump in her throat was a stubborn bastard.
Resigning herself to the impending loss of her dream job, Zia fought a reflexive prickling of tears to explain, “I… Well, Iwenthome, but when I got there I saw an updated weather report that said we were going to freeze tonight. I came back to cover the new roses.”
Fearing that he wouldn’t understand exactlywhyshe couldn’t let them die, she rushed to add, “They’re so rare, Mr. Bounds. All of them are heritage varieties that pre-date the war. I had to wait almost a whole year to get cuttings from the Rose Society, and the frost would have killed them if they weren’t covered. I couldn’t just let them die.”
She bit her lip to stop herself from rambling on. Why would he care about her excuses? As far as she knew, he probably didn’t even know what she did on his estate, or how important the rose garden was to her. It was a miracle he even knew her name.
He could find another rosarian with a snap of his fingers, and he almost certainly wouldn’t have noticed if her prized new varieties died in the cold.
Curling her half-frozen fingers into her thighs, she dropped her eyes to the brick floor. “I know— Iknowno one is allowed on the grounds after sunset, so I tried to hurry, but I wasn’t fast enough.” She closed her eyes, bracing for the worst part. In a hoarse voice, she admitted, “I thought that if I just spent the night in here, maybe it wouldn’t bother anyone. I understand that I’m definitely fired, but I just…”
Just what? Couldn’t help yourself? Couldn’t do your job? Couldn’t think of a better way to explain why the roses matter?
There was no excuse for what she’d done. She broke the rule. The consequence was clear. That was it.
Except no scolding came. There was no upbraiding, no demands for her to get off his property. There was only the sound of wind and her own ragged breathing.
He was quiet for so long, Zia was actually forced to open her eyes andlookat him.
Mr. Bounds was in the exact same position. He didn’t even look like he had blinked since she began her pitiful little speech. Those vampire eyes were locked on her face, unreadable, while his expression was completely impassive.
Cold sweat dewing on the back of her neck, she worked up the nerve to whisper, “Mr. Bounds?”
That seemed to unfreeze him.
He cut his eyes away. His upper lip lifted to reveal a pair of prominent fangs as he made a distinctly perturbed clicking sound with his tongue.
Slowly, like he was trying to work it all out, he asked, “So you thought you should spend the coldest night of the year so far inhereinstead of, say, walking to the gatehouse to ask the guards to let you out?” He paused. Mr. Bounds’s gaze snapped back to hers as his heavy brows lowered.“Orsimply walking up the stairs to knock on the manor’s door?”
Zia dropped her eyes. Gods, he probably thought she had mush for brains. A normal person would have done exactly that, especially when they realized they left their cellphone in their car and the temperature was dropping fast.
What could she say?I know. I just really, really love my roses?
He would laugh at her the same way people had always laughed at her. Or worse — he’d beangry.
Gods, Zia couldn’t stand it when people got angry with her. She usually broke out into huge, embarrassing tears before they even opened their mouths.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, standing abruptly. Her hands fluttered around her legs. Useless. “Really, Mr. Bounds. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll go.”
She’d go home to her lonely little house in the woods, which was too dark and cold all the time, and she’d have a nice, long cry about losing her job because she cared way, way too much. Then she’d call herannein the morning and admit that she was right, Zia really should have just stayed home with the family and taken that job at the San Jose Botanical Garden.
When Mr. Bounds stood up in one smooth, almost catlike movement, the light couldn’t reach his face. He was cast in shadow once more — only those terrifying predator eyes could be seen as she tried to squeeze past him in the narrow space.
