“So does this mean no goodnight kiss then?” For a heartbeat, he simply watched me. Then he stepped closer, and the movement was slow enough that I felt the shift in the air around us. Another second later, and I properly registered that the distance between us was disappearing. My back was suddenly very aware of the solid door behind me, leaving very little space between us as he lifted one hand at first. One he placed at the door just above my head, so he could lean his body closer to me.
Then, with his other hand, this rose to my face. His fingers reached out to brush lightly beneath my chin, tilting my face upward just enough that avoiding his gaze became completely impossible. And my pulse betrayed me immediately.
“Oh, I will kiss you,” he said quietly, the faintest hint of amusement touching his voice, and hope flickered before I could stop it.
“But you are mistaken…if you believe it means goodbye,”he continued calmly, his thumb resting briefly against my jaw as my stomach flipped. Then with one last smirk, he lowered his lips to mine and…
Kissed me.
And just like in his office, there was nothing hesitant about it. His hand shifted slightly, steadying my chin as his mouth claimed mine with quiet certainty. The kiss was deep enough to steal the breath from my lungs before I had any chance to protest…not that I would have.
It was slow at first, deliberate in a way that felt almost dangerously confident. As though he had already decided exactly how the moment would unfold. His lips moved against mine with a heat that spread far quicker than it had any right to. It sent a shiver down my spine as the firm pressure softened into something far more lingering. My fingers curled instinctively into the front of his jacket as the kiss deepened. The world narrowed to nothing more than the steady warmth of his mouth, and the quiet control in the hand still cradling my jaw.
The longer it lasted, the more impossible it became to think about anything else. Every lingering second only seemed to blur my thoughts further. Until the corridor, the door behind me, and every sensible reason I might have had to step away dissolved completely beneath the firm certainty of his addictive touch. The taste of him was enough to scatter my thoughts entirely before he finally pulled back.
For a moment, I simply stared up at him, and he studied my face for a heartbeat longer. As he was clearly satisfied with the effect he had on me, and the spell I felt he had woven around me.
Then his gaze drifted briefly toward the door behind me before he rumbled out the rough command,
“Now open the door, Eliza.”
The quiet demand lingered between us for a moment longer than it should have. Not because I hadn’t heard him. But because my brain had decided that this was apparently the exact moment it wanted to stop cooperating entirely.
The door was directly behind me, the cool wood pressing lightly against my back, and yet my hand remained stubbornly atmy side. As if touching the handle might somehow confirm the very thing I was currently pretending not to think about.
Which was ridiculous.
I had been in this room before. I knew exactly what was waiting on the other side of that door. Unfortunately, knowing that did absolutely nothing to calm the sudden rush of nerves climbing steadily up my spine.
Meanwhile, Wye looked far too confident about what would happen once we stepped over the threshold. If anything, the faint curve of amusement still lingering around his mouth suggested he was enjoying this far more than he probably should.
“Unless you wish to spend the rest of the evening pressed against the door,” he commented with a flash of silver glinting in his eyes as if he was playing out exactly what he could do to me with the door at my back.And damn him, now I was doing the same.
So, my eyes narrowed at him and countered,
“I’m building suspense.” At this, he scoffed a laugh and called me on my bullshit.
“You are stalling, little human.” I swallowed hard at that before arguing the lie.
“I am not.” But then his brow lifted slightly, and at the same time, his hand started to slip down from my jaw to my neck, so that they could skim lightly across my collarbone. His eyes followed the teasing journey, glowing for long seconds when he saw me shiver.
I exhaled slowly through my nose before finally reaching behind me, my fingers brushing the cool metal handle, knowing now that I had something to prove. But then, when I hesitated again, he didn’t miss it. Because the moment suddenly felt far more significant than opening a door reasonably should.
Yet, instead of taking over the simple task, he tested me when his brow rose in silent challenge.
So, I turned it.
The latch clicked softly, and the door eased open beneath my hand. The familiar bedroom greeted us, bathed in a warm glow from the flames dancing in the fireplace. The same large bed dominated the center of the room and was the first thing my eyes focused on, for obvious reasons. Which was why I stepped aside and looked anywhere but at the sleeping elephant in the room.
My eyes scanned the space I had spent most of the day in as Wye’s prisoner. The same dark wood furniture greeted me. Furniture that was arranged with careful precision.
I stepped further inside slowly, aware of Wye following a second later as the door closed quietly behind us, and for a moment neither of us spoke. Which was unfortunate because silence had an alarming tendency to let my thoughts run far too freely.
My gaze drifted briefly toward the bed once more before I very quickly redirected it toward the far side of the room instead. As for Wye, he moved with an ease that immediately suggested he had done this countless times before. Of course, he had… it was his room after all. Which meant I shouldn’t have been surprised when he
reached up to unclasp the dark metal fastening at his shoulder.
My eyes widened when one broad shoulder plate slipped free beneath his hand. The dull sheen of the metal caught the low firelight as he set it aside, doing so with the quiet familiarity of someone far too accustomed to removing it at the end of a long evening. Without it, he looked no less imposing, only less guarded, which somehow felt even more dangerous. Because then his attention shifted to his jacket.
