“I need a shower and a change of clothes, and you need to find a way to make me kind. Since I don’t intend on going back downstairs until morning—Mimi just reminded me tomorrow is the first, and you now know what happens on the first—I thought we could continue our extraordinarily enlightening conversation in mybedroom.”
I raised my chin a notch. “You’re not planning on trying anything onme?”
The smile toppled from his face, and his eyes grew harder. “During my free time, I track down rapists and child molesters and get rid of them. Even the ones locked safely away in jails. So, please never insinuate something of the sort again.” He turned sharply, his polished Oxford shoes squealing on the hardwood, and pushed through a set ofdoors.
My arms collapsed against my sides as I trailed after him. “You can’t go around killingpeople.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. Your kind has a skewed view ofjustice.”
“My kind?” My spine tingled as though my wings were about to popout.
He slung his jacket over the back of an antique desk chair, then started on his cufflinks. “Fanatical devotees of higher beings.” He tossed them on an orangetray.
When he untucked his shirt, I jolted my gaze to the art over his canopy bed. The pastel-hued depictions of rosy-cheeked women with golden ringlets contrasted sharply with the dark wood paneling and the bedsheets that shone like liquid steel in the subdued lighting coming off hisbookcase.
I needed to get off the subject of religion that hit too close to home. “You really love art, don’tyou?”
“Uncledid.”
“But youdon’t?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t gotten rid ofthem.”
I looked back at him, forcing my gaze not to dip to the dark hair blanketing his pecs. “Why can’t you ever give me a straightanswer?”
He shot me a withering smile. “Consider yourself lucky you’re getting answers from me in the first place. I don’t make it a habit to divulge anything about myself. Not to friends. Not tostrangers.”
“Why are you undressing in front ofme?”
“Where would you like me to undress, Feather? This is mybedroom.”
When his fingers dropped to his belt buckle, I whirled around. “I’ll wait for you on the landing. Come get me when you’re showered andchanged.”
“Weren’t you enjoying the show? I haven’t taken off my clothes in front of a woman in a long time.” I had a hard time believing that. “Perhaps I’m not doing itwell?”
Thankfully, I had my back to him, so he couldn’t see how flustered I’d become. I pulled his door shut and then walked to the other side of the landing, my heels clicking in time with my ratchetingbreaths.
I’d been wrong to let down my guard around Jarod. I wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but I didn’t like it. I peered over the blackened-iron railing, longing to race down the stairs and through thecourtyard.
Would his bodyguards let meleave?
I wrapped my trembling fingers around thebanister.
Asherceleste.
I squeezed my fingers, my palms molding around the cool metal, the injured onesmarting.
I couldn’t leave without trying to helpJarod.
You can’t die,Leigh, I reminded myself for the umpteenthtime.
Sure, he could torture me, bruise my skin, or put a bullet through my flesh, but my angelic blood would heal me. As long as I had wings, I wasimmortal.
I closed my eyes and forced my breathing to slow, forced my heart to quiet. I was going to beokay.
“Did you change your mind about spending the night with me?” Jarod’s voice had my palms skidding off thebanister.
He was leaning against his door frame, arms crossed over a black silk bathrobe that stopped right above his knees. He’d either taken the quickest shower, or I’d just spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating my calamitousfate.
