“You’re playing a very dangerous game,” I growl.
She inhales unsteadily.
I let my mouth trace the line of her neck, my tongue lingering as I lick, suck, and bite. I swear she moans, though it is so soft it is barely audible, as if she is still clinging to that last shred of composure, adamant that she is unaffected by me.
She is anything but.
Her body answers mine, her soul calling to me whether she wills it or not.
I pull back, my fingers loosening at her throat.
“Go,” I grumble. “Go now, gorgeous. Before I decide to take you over my shoulder and tie you to our bed.”
For a moment, I think she will fight me.
But then she steps away, straightens herself, and walks out of the chalet without looking back.
I don’t miss the tremor running through her body with each step she takes away from me.
I remain where I am, my jaw set in a hard line, pulse roaring in my ears, watching the door long after it has shut behind her.
“Run, gorgeous,” I murmur. “I have always loved the chase.”
Chapter 33
Milo
My leg will not stop bouncing.
As the car moves, the lights slide past the windows, and in my hand I turn Octavia’s blade over and over.
My souvenir.
I still have not given it back, and I have no intention of doing so.
I keep it as a reminder.
Of our first meeting.
Of the moment she tried to end me and instead etched herself permanently into my life.
In my other hand, I keep tapping at my phone.
Again.
And again.
Message after message.
With no reply.
I let her go. I wanted her to believe I was humouring her, letting this farce run its course.
I didn’t stop her.
I even followed her to the garage only for appearances, offered token protest without any real heat, because I wanted her gone, so I could follow and deal with her properly later.
Punish her for it.
