“Well,ourdoors are always open to you,machérie.”
Her unmerited benevolence combined with the steam rising from the bath made the air suddenly too thick tobreathe.
“You don’t even know me, Muriel. Maybe I’m a horribleperson.”
The corners of her navy eyes crinkled along with those of her mouth. “You make my boy laugh. I haven’t heard him laugh in years. So even if you were horrible—which you’re not—I’d coerce you to stick around, just to hear that sound again.” She squeezed my shoulder as she walked past me. “I’ll be rightback.”
I was still standing in the exact same spot when she returned, watching the round mirror over the sink cloud and blur my reflection until I looked more wraith than angel, which seemed appropriate considering how unangelic Ifelt.
* * *
Isoakedin the bath until my muscles softened, my skin pruned, and the water turned tepid, then I towel-dried slowly, squeezing the foamy water from the ends of myhair.
I was just slipping on a fresh pair of underwear and an oversized Eagles T-shirt one of my sinners had gifted me years ago when a knockresounded.
My stomach tensed. “Comein.”
As Jarod appeared in the doorway, I tugged on the hem of my T-shirt wishing there was more fabric to tug. So much of my legs was on display. What if the sight of my soft thighs made him gallantly retreat to his ownbedroom?
I searched his face for repulsion but found mostly fatigue. He slid his hands inside his pants pockets and leaned against the wooden frame, taking me in first before gazing around his bedroom as though he hadn’t visited it inyears.
He’d shed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, displaying lean, tanned forearms dusted by the same dark hair that peeked out from his open collar. I wasn’t sure if being attracted to hairy men was a thing, but possibly it was my thing, because the sight of all that virility was tightening various muscles in mybody.
“See something youlike?”
I gulped, then crossed my arms, trying to strangle the thrashing inside my chest before it made the rest of my body vibrate. “I remember you asking me this when wemet.”
One side of his mouth ticked up as he pushed away from the frame, kicked the door closed, and ambled toward me. “And I remember you avoidingreplying.”
I stood my ground as he reached me. Without heels, the top of my head barely cleared hischin.
He looked down at me. “Were you afraid that declaring your overpowering lust would cost you afeather?”
“Overpowering lust . . .” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll admit, I wasintrigued.”
“Intrigued, huh?” Smiling, he pulled one hand out of hispocket.
Anticipation that he was about to touch some part of my body skittered in my blood. He didn’t, though. He rubbed his jaw, and the chafing sound made goose bumps spread over myskin.
“Well, I was intrigued by you the moment I saw you hanging on to Tristan’s arm in your littlemask.”
My skin palpitated from his nearness. “The only thing that intrigued you back then was finding a way to destroyme.”
He stopped rubbing his jaw. “I wanted to destroy your dress. And Tristan’s arm,” he added as anafterthought.
His hand finally bridged the distance between our bodies, coming to wrap around the back of my head. I wondered if he was going to kiss me, but instead he just stared, and his dark eyes seemed to darken somemore.
“I’m sorry for what Tristan saiddownstairs.”
“It’s okay,” I said, gripping onto his shirt in an attempt to keep myself upright, even though I had no doubt his hands were doing a better job of ensuring my verticality than my own. “You called me a stalker,remember?”
He dropped his forehead to mine. “I’m so glad you stalked me,Feather.”
“You didn’t lookglad.”
“Showing emotion gives people leverage overyou.”
“Your uncle taught youthat?”
