Seeing the flicker of defiance in my expression, perhaps, he let out a low, sinister chuckle. “You think I can’t marry you?”
Please, don’t.
My heart stuttered. Why was he suddenly talking about marriage? I thought his only desire was to kill me off but decided to just use my body to pass time until he was ready?
“I thought so too. But if I’m going keep you until this my fixation on you wears off, I might as well follow tradition.” His voice was dangerously low, darkness laced into the words. “I’m going to marry you, Beth Fraser. And I don’t care what anyone has to say about that. Not even you.” He leaned over, brushing his finger on my jaw. “Or your little friend.”
His tone dropped in warning at the reference to Kenzo, and my pulse spiked. I tried everything not to put Kenzo in the spotlight, not for any reason. But somehow, his name had wiggled into the web.
“I know he has been telling you things.” His fingers brushed over my lips, sending a shiver skirting up my spine. “Trying to convince you to walk away from this beautiful thing between us.” He exhaled sharply, his face lowering, the tip of his nose brushing against my jaw. “Who knows what I’ll do if he tries to take you away from me because I’m not good enough for you? God, I’ll not hesitate to–”
“–No!” I snapped, shaking my head so sharply that it slammed into the headrest when the car lurched over a slight bump. “He won’t do anything.”
He studied me, lips curved in a sinister grin, his gaze brimming with something promising and dangerous, then he shrugged. “Okay. I believe you. No need to be dramatic.”
His shadow disappeared as he leaned back into his chair, head thrown against the leather, his eyes snapping shut.
I sat there quietly, too scared to even move and risk making a sound that would remind him that I was beside him. And I didn’tquestion it when, instead of driving toward the guesthouse since he said we were spending the day together, the driver took the road that led to my house.
“I need to attend something outside of town,” he answered as if reading the unspoken question on my lips. “I’ll be back.”
Relief washed over me. A reprieve, a brief moment without him breathing down my neck, manipulating my thoughts, twisting my world into something unrecognizable.
It was hard to remember that there used to be a man who looked exactly like him that I adored. And then there was a monster who lived inside him. But it had been so long since I saw the other version that his memories had nearly faded away. And all I was left with was the monster.
Perhaps all of that then was just an illusion. Maybe Zaghan, Callan whichever was which was just a trick of the light. Maybe there had been just a predator spinning a web, feigning tenderness until I was too entangled to escape.
Maybe there was really no such thing as Zaghan and Callan.
Just a predator.
The car pulled into my driveway after a long quiet ride. As I went to open the door, Zaghan’s hand covered mine, his warmth seeping into my skin. My heart skittered as he leaned in, lips brushing against mine with a gentleness that felt like a contradiction. “I’ll be back in…three hours, hmm?” He left feather light kisses on my jaw, face burrowing into the crook of my neck, breathing me in as if he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to fill his lungs with oxygen enough to last him until he returned from this unknown quest. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?”
“I will.” I nodded, my body betraying me with a shiver when his lips returned to my trembling ones, capturing them in a short but heated kiss that was both demanding and possessive, sending electric jolts to the tip of my toes.
“Go,” he ordered, voice husky, layered with yearning as if restraining himself from taking more.
He opened the door, pushing it wide enough for me to slip through. I stepped out, my body weightless, lips tingling as the memories of his hot ones lingered.
The car didn’t move, not when I reached the doorstep, pushed open the door, and disappeared inside the quiet and empty house.
I leaned against the door, eyes closed. Then a few seconds later, the roar of the engine ripped through the quiet street, the tyres screeching as they reversed out of my driveway.
Subconsciously, my hand lifted to touch my lips, to caress them and nurse the burn from his touch. A soft gasp that could easily go unnoticed echoed from my parted lips when my hand brushed my erect nipple.
All he did was kiss me. And I was already a mess, burning from just a mere touch.
A sudden vibration from my rucksack distracted me from my thoughts. Unhitching it from my shoulder, I zipped open the back pocket and pulled out the phone.
The name on the screen had me pausing.
Rowan?
???
I didn’t have to pick Rowan McRae’s call. I had no obligation to even if things were left on a cliffhanger the last time we met. He had called me many times after that day. But I was always not in the right frame of mind to answer it. I should have ignored today’s own, too. I should have pretended like I didn’t see it.
But I didn’t. Couldn’t. Because it was Rowan McRae. And hedidn’t deserve my constant dismissal.
