I never knew a warrior librarian could do that. I thought his magic only allowed him to put things and creaturesback, and that power seems to be failing, so how is he able to do this?
Clues. I need more clues. This place is making less and less sense the more I learn about it.
“If I wear the dress,” I say, “youwillescort me into the sanctum?”
“Yes.”
I nod and reach for the dress. “Then give it to me.”
“And I get to help you put it on.”
I stare at him. His lashes lift and his gaze bores into mine, hot and hungry. It feeds the hunger in my own belly, the need to touch him and be touched by him. I know that if I keep looking at him, we will collide in a crash that will destroy me.
Last time I gave in to my lust, he made me feel naïve and stupid.
So I turn my back to him and unlace the shirt. I grab the hem to lift it off, but his hands cover mine. Together we drag it up my body and let it fall to the floor.
Swallowing hard, I unlace the leather pants while stepping out of my shoes and he comes around to kneel before me, dragging the pants down, leaving me in my underpants and stockings.
I place my hands over my bare breasts, feeling exposed, but at the same time burning under his gaze. I like it on me. I want his hands, the same strong hands that held the scimitars and then clutched the dress so hard they almost tore it apart to caress me, touch me, hold me.
The white dress draped over one arm, he gets up and, Gods, his eyes smolder as he takes me in. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “Show me.”
“Roane…”
“I want to see all of you.”
He makes me feel beautiful. The way he looks at me is a drug, addling my senses. Slowly, I lower my hands and he catches them in his, the white dress caught between us, cool and soft. His gaze fastens on my breasts and his eyes seem to glow with a dark light.
“So perfect,” he breathes. “Prettier than I had imagined.”
The dress falls from his arm, breaking the moment. I step back, covering my breasts again. What are we doing? Why did I allow that? How can I forget how he has treated me?
He crouches down to retrieve the dress, and a smile tugs on his mouth. So easily he convinced me to show him my body… So easily I’m caught again, staring at him.
Good Gods, I’m ensnared like a bird in a net. No matter how fast I beat my wings, I don’t seem to be able to fly away.
“Here.” He holds the dress for me and I step inside. He rises, pulling it up, lingering when it reaches my chest, his gaze back on my breasts.
I grab the bodice and haul it all the way to my neck, which makes him grin. “You’re staring again.”
“Why, are you the only one allowed to do so?”
“I don’t stare at you,” I lie and my cheeks burn. “You haven’t been naked in my presence.”
“I’ve only seen your breasts. If you wish to see my chest naked, you only have to say.”
My lips pull into a reluctant smile until I remember why this is a bad idea. Instead, I focus on pushing my arms through the sleeves and shove my thoughts into another direction.
“Which book did you pull this dress from? And to whom did it belong in the story?”
He walks around me and stands at my back, giving the laces of the bodice a light tug. “Nobody.”
“Right. Now the truth, please?”
“Fine.” He huffs, his breath warm on the back of my neck. “It belonged to a goddess, or so the legend says. It hung in an abandoned temple.”
“And you thought it wise to steal it and put it on me?”
