“No…” Her brow pinched. “I just… I’m not very…”
“I know.” He glanced at what was left of the shredded files on the floor.
He saw her. Not just her picture, but her expression in the photo.
What did he see now? Fear? Curiosity? A woman on the brink of reckless ruin? “You won’t hurt me,” she said, unclear how she knew that when he obviously was capable of violence.
“No,” he agreed. “Never on purpose.”
She studied him for a long moment. “You want to touch me?”
The breath left him in a rush. He held her stare, then gave a subtle nod.
She scooted back, signaling that he had her permission.
He crossed the distance in two strides, but when he reached the bed, he froze.
He didn’t pounce. Didn’t crush her beneath him as he had a moment ago in an excited frenzy of want and claim.
He kneeled on the mattress, subtle, tentative, then paused, looking down. He took off his fine leather shoes and knelt slowly.
As he recalibrated from unhinged to calculated, Daisy felt his power shift. Control, so tight and absolute, it was as if he’d completely sent his passion away.
“How do you do that?” she asked, self-consciously arranging her body by the pillows.
“Do what?”
“Disappear in plain sight.”
He glanced down for a split second as a debate played across his eyes, then he looked at her, and all she could see was his sincerity. “It’s something I learned to do when I was very young.”
She couldn’t picture him young. He was too intimidating, too powerful, too mysterious, and damaged and beautiful all the same.
Her gaze dropped to his shirt. “I’m underdressed.”
“You’re perfect.” His words, sudden and startling, knocked something loose in her.
Daisy searched his face for any sign of mockery, but found none. She wasn’t perfect. Too thin, too pale, too tattered.
She took in his thick, chestnut hair and olive skin. No one would guess the wreckage he hid. His charm and handsome face made it impossible to see him as flawed on first glance. Those dove-grey eyes that could turn stormy and intense had a way of disarming a person and making them feel like the most important person in the world.
He rescued her twice tonight. Defended her honor until his hands bled. He was dangerous. An unsolvable puzzle that others could spend lifetimes trying to solve. Possibly the second cousin of Satan himself. But God help her, she was drawn to him.
“I’m nervous,” she confessed.
“Don’t be,” he said quickly. “What I mean is…in life…things happen. Sad things, happy things, big things, little things… It’s all just a collection of experiences we take with us in the end. If all this moment ever is, is a chance for me to look at you like this, it will stay with me for the rest of my life.”
Her gaze dropped, not in submission or shame, but because his words were the prettiest anyone had ever said to her. She never realized how easy it was to desire someone and fear them at the same time.
Lifting her lashes, she met his stare with promise. Not confidence. Not recklessness. But commitment to see this moment through. At least then, she might have one memory of this night worth holding onto.
Daisy wrung her hands nervously. “How do you want me?”
His gaze traveled her body with the reverent focus of a man studying scripture. “Natural. Just as you are.”
She didn’t know what that meant. “Should I lie back?—”
He reached for her slowly, cutting off her nervous questions. His finger gently traced her lush lips, his touch feather-light as he studied her closely. His gaze lingered on the bruise darkening her cheekbone, then shifted abruptly to the cut at her hairline.
