Lisa’s brow rose so high she was sure her eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline.
Tony didn’t seem phased at all.“See, that’s the thing, it’s not my face I’m worried about.It’s lovely Lisa’s face that concerns me.”
Lisa’s eyes jumped to the dark elf, whose own eyes almost appeared to glow.“I’m suggesting, cordially, that lovely Lisa’s faceno longerconcern you.”
Then her eyes bounced back to Tony, she felt as if she was watching a tennis match.
“Oddly enough, I stopped taking suggestions from dark elves,” Tony’s teeth gleamed in the light with his sharp smile.“I learned the hard way that they can’t be trusted.”Then he turned to look at Lisa and bowed his head.“Same time next week, lovely Lisa.”The term was said with a bit of humor and a bit of annoyance as he winked at her.Then Tony headed for the door, and when the bell chimed behind him, Lisa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.Rezer hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked away from her.
She met his gaze and folded her arms.“For the love of all things, was that necessary?”
He settled back further into his chair, if that was possible, a hint of satisfaction ghosting across his face.“Completely.”
Lisa narrowed her eyes.“You’re insufferable.”Even as the words left her mouth, her stomach twisted, and not in a bad way.Stupid stomach.
He tilted his head slightly and paused as if listening for something.After at least fifteen seconds he said, “So I’ve been told.He wants you.”
She turned away, muttering something about patience being a myth, but her pulse was unsteady, and she hated that he’d notice.That’s what he’d been listening to.Damn elf hearing.
Behind her, Rezer’s voice came quiet, almost thoughtful.“You don’t deny it.”
She went about her usual tasks for getting ready to close.“Deny what?”she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“That he’s interested in you.”
Lisa didn’t turn around.“Why would I have to?It’s obvious and you noticed it.Do I really need to confirm something you noticed yourself?”
“No,” he said lightly.“But you’re not interested in him.”He said it with a confidence that made her want to snarl at him.
She shrugged.
“Then why do you not discourage him from coming back?If you have no plans to let him court you, then why the dance?”
She thought about it instead of blurting out some flippant answer.Lisa had asked herself that same question many times.Finally, she spoke.Her answer was soft, honest.“Because being alone is easier to accept when you still feel wanted by someone.”
Rezer didn’t reply.But she felt something in the room shift.
The quiet thatfollowed her words was heavy enough to feel.Rezer didn’t move for several heartbeats.Lisa didn’t either.
Then, he rose from the chair, the old wood creaking beneath his weight.Lisa’s back was to him, but she tensed, as if she could sense the change.He moved quietly, controlled, until he was just behind her—close enough for his presence to reach across the narrow space and brush the bare skin at the nape of her neck.He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t need to.The awareness between them was electric, a pulse that seemed to thrum in the quiet of the shop.
“Rezer.”Her voice was low, warning, a thread of something that made his chest tighten.“Don’t.”
He stopped, resisting the urge to close the final inches, to see how soft the skin behind her ear might be.She didn’t turn, but he could see the tension.He let his voice drop, deep and quiet, letting it fill the space between her shoulders.“Don’t what?Speak?Breathe?”
She turned at that, and he was closer than she’d expected judging by the intake of her breath, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her pupils widened when she met his gaze.He couldn’t help it: his eyes lingered on her mouth, the soft bow of her lips, before climbing back to her eyes.“Don’t disrupt my calm life.”
He inhaled, slow and deliberate, letting her scent, tea, honey, something wild and old, fill his lungs.For a moment, he let himself imagine leaning in, brushing his mouth over hers, tasting the warmth there.Instead, he spoke, his voice a near-growl: “You call that calm?”He was speaking of her heart pounding in her chest that he could easily hear with his superior senses.
She crossed her arms, and he saw it for what it was, a shield, armor she’d learned to wear.He let his eyes drift down, taking in the flutter at the hollow of her throat, the unsteady beat of her pulse that continued to grow more rapid.The sight of it, so vulnerable, made something dark and possessive unfurl in his chest.
“It’s manageable,” she said.But her voice was thin, breathy, and he could hear the lie in it.
He smiled—slow, predatory.“Manageable.A convenient word for pretending you’re not angry.”
She lifted her chin, stubborn as he was learning.“I’m not angry.”
He stepped in, until he knew she could feel the heat radiating from his body.His breath ghosted across her cheek as he spoke, and he watched the way her lashes fluttered.“No?”He asked and then his confession slipped out, rougher than he intended, intimate as a caress.“Because I am.”
