“You were going todie,” I snap, completely ignoring her explanation.
She tips her head up and looks me right in the eye.
“I wasn’t.” Her voice is small but certain.
This closeness, her in my arms, rattles me more than if she’d screamed. Christ, Fallon is utterly beautiful.
Normally, the next step to having a woman in my armswould be carrying her off to my bed. But there’s an important piece to Fallon I’ve yet to understand. Like, what is going on in her head that she thinks I’m her boyfriend?
I have to know more aboutthatand what makes her different and unusual.
“You can’t crawl on the window ledge to get in here, Fallon,” I scold.
I imagine Blade or Jett seeing her from the courtyard below and fucking shooting her down.
“You’re angry,” she says quietly, eyes wide.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “I am.”
Tears pool, threatening to fall as panic spikes through me.
“Hey,” I soften, “don’t do that. I’m not mad at you. Look, I’m not used to…this.”
“This?” she echoes.
“This,” I say, motioning to her shivering, completely unhinged body in my arms.
Heat sears inside my chest. I haven’t felt an attraction like this for anyone in a long time. Mostly since I started killing for my cousins. I made a deal with myself to shut down my heart and emotions.
Fallon is opening me up. With plants! But saving her from a fall to her death has jarred me wide open.
I stop right there and let these emotions war within my soul. See who wins.
I look at Fallon, who’s gone silent. Her eyes are closed, and she’s murmuring something.
I recognize it. She’s…self-soothing. The same way Oliver, the kid I pulled from the Leinster House disaster, did six years ago.
I’m about to bring him up, but I notice her nipples blazing through her white T-shirt.
Her breasts are small, perfect, the peaks brushing myribs with every shiver. Heat slams down my spine like a hammer. My heart is ready to detonate in my chest.
But her fragility, especially after almost falling to her death, reminds me of a weapon with a hairline fracture. It looks intact, but the moment it’s needed, it could fail catastrophically.
My hands linger at her hips. “You can’t leave here dressed this way.”
“It’s just the hallway,” she protests, still shivering.
Too many eyes.
And mine are roaming out of control. “Come with me. I’ll give you something else to wear.”
She blinks. “Are we going to your bedroom?”
The word hits like a punch.
“Yeah,” I say and push my face into hers softly. “You can trust me, Fallon.”
“I do trust you.”
