“How are you supposed to keep me from murdering people if you leave?” His shirt was still half-out.
“Are you blackmailing me intostaying?”
“Maybe.”
“You have no shame,” I murmuredlightly.
“None whatsoever.” He thrust the remaining piece of fitted cotton into his pants, then leaned over, pressing his fists into the mattress. “Sayyes.”
“What if I sayno?”
“I’ll tie you to my bedagain.”
“Not much of athreat.”
He smiledwickedly.
I gnawed on my lip. “Are you certain you want mehere?”
“Never been more certain ofanything.”
I stared around me at the vast space covered in dark wood paneling, antique books, and priceless oil paintings. When my gaze landed on the recliner, I asked, “Why did you keep the chair?”And the letter opener?But I didn’t add thatpart.
All the playfulness bled out of him. “As a reminder to never give up, however fucking hard lifegets.”
“Jarod!” Tristan’s voice seemed to have gottencloser.
Jarod pressed off the bed and strode to thedoor.
Before he left, I said, “I’ll need to go back to the guild at some point. To get someclothes.”
He looked over his shoulder. “I’ll have Muriel bring you some. And tomorrow, she’ll take you to Avenue Montaigne, and you can buy the whole fuckingstreet.”
I sat, tucking the sheet around my torso. “This might come as a surprise, but we’re pretty tightly budgeted, so Avenue Montaigne might be a little out of my pricerange.”
He flashed me a smile. “You’re cute,Feather.”
Ifrowned.
“Your budget’s unlimited from nowon.”
“Jarod, Ican’t—”
“Consider it payment for saving my soul. Plus, you’ll need some outfits for the coming week. I have to go to the opera, and I’d much rather take you thanTristan.”
My mouth parted to protest again, but by the time I got my throat to work, he was gone. “That’s not how it works,” Imumbled.
I fell back against the fluffy comforter. My beloved romance novels were full of scenarios like this one, but they were fictional. That this sort of thing could really happen, and to me, of all people, was so preposterously farfetched that I didn’t have the slightest clue how to cope with it. I could turn Jarod down by insisting it would cost me feathers, but if I lost a feather telling him this, he’d handcuff me to Muriel and make her drag me down the opulentavenue.
I pushed the shopping issue aside. I’d revisit it later when I was done examining the issue at hand—me, naked, save for a scrap of wet lace, in Jarod’s bed. Had I really propositioned him before Tristan arrived? Maybe Celeste had been right to worry about me even though her worrying was misplaced. It wasn’t my safety she should’ve been concerned about, but mysensibleness.
Sex.The act we grew up cautioned against. Here I was offering myself to a man who, although not a stranger, wasn’t aboyfriend.
My body thrummed as it rekindled the softness of his tongue and the firmness of his fingers and the sweetness of his words. Running my hand idly over the silky sheets, I realized that the only regret I felt was that he’dleft.
“Leigh, can I come in?” Muriel’s voice had me sitting up so fast the dusky space swam andblurred.
“One sec!” I yelled, scrabbling to locate my dress. I yanked it on, then straightened the sheets at warp speed. “Come in,” Iblustered.
