What didshedo tohim? Why didshehave leave? How about the other way around? What didhedo toher? Why did he notleave? She’d been sensible, to a degree, up until here. She had plans. A dream. Then he’d cast some sort of spell over her. She had actually kissed him. Without thinking, without planning. Without anything but pure, bone-deep, breath-stealing, brain-scattering want.
One step.
Then another.
His eyes bore into hers, and she could practically feel him assessingher behavior. Trying to make sense of what she was doing. He wouldn’t get the answer. Honestly, she didn’t even know.
Heat flushed low in her belly. A primal awareness.
Greed.
That was the word.
Not just for his mouth or his hands or that maddening scar above his heart, the one that split his lip. But for the way he looked at her. Protected her. Pursued her. She never imagined she’d feel this exposed.
Not after London.
Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer still, until she had to crane her neck to look up at him again, his scent enveloping her once more. She couldn’t put a name to the notes—somewhere between wild and dangerous—but the spice was so blazingly heady she wanted to let her eyes drift shut and inhale deeply.
But that would break this spell.
Or enhance it.
She wasn’t sure what would be more unnerving.
Her words came purposefully. “Don’t ever command me.”
His hand came up again. Slowly. Giving her time to evade. She didn’t. He was cupping her face, firm and hesitant, thumbs brushing the arc of her cheekbones as if he couldn’t quite believe he was touching her. The same as before yet somehow different.
How could she just flee from a moment such as this?
It was like he’d reached into her chest and found the wound still bleeding.
And then he swiftly let go. But instead of retreating to his side, that hand caught hers instead, and now that she was less dazed, she could feel the rough ridges of his scars against her skin.
“Why aren’t you saying something?” she asked. “You’re just staring.”
“So are you.”
“We kissed.” Was this the time to wonder what exactly thatmeant? As inmeantmeant? As in how to proceed in the future? Thinking about kissing and actually kissing, after all, were not the same. In fact, they weren’t even in the same realm of realms.
His fingers tightened around hers. “I didn’t mean to kiss you.”
“I didn’t mean to kiss you, either.”
“Do you regret it?” he asked, a furrow appearing between his brows.
Did she?
Every part of her screamed no. But then uncertainty slithered in, cold and slick. “I probably should, shouldn’t I?”
His jaw flexed, and he started to pull away.
She didn’t let him.
“Wait,” she whispered, keeping their fingers twined. Her father had once told her,If you ever find yourself on the edge of a cliff, Calliope, look at the man who led you there. Does he want to push you off, or pull you back?She hadn’t understood back then. She was sure she never would. Now, she did. “I didn’t say I did.”
His eyes met hers again, and the storm in them settled. “You confuse the hell out of me.”
