A rosy blush—almost as deafening as the quiet—creeps up her pale neck. Her gaze flits to mine, then drops.
But only for a moment, because next thing I know, she lifts her chin, looks me dead on and replies, “Seems like a lot of trouble for one person.”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“And that is?”
A muscle in my cheek twitches, giving too much of me away. “Tell me about your curse.”
Her jaw works, and shadows flicker across her face. “It didn’t start with me.”
“I guessed as much.”
Why are you talking about her curse when you should be handing her flowers? Asking if you can court her?
This isn’t the eighteenth century,I remind it.
“And did you cast your curse?” she asks, throwing the conversation back on me.
No, because you walked right into it, and now you’re all we can think about.
She’s allyoucan think about.
Nightmare goes quiet.
“And have you freed yourself from your curse?”
“You already know the answer to that,” she tells me.
“Do I?”
She has the good graces to roll her eyes. “You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t already know.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’m not. I just assumed.”
“Correctly,” I assure her.
Her gaze dances over my features then, brushing my eyes, my nose, my jaw, and down to my feet and back up. I feel her gaze like a touch as it moves over my body, eventually landing back at my eyes.
There’s another beat of silence, and I wait to see what she’ll do next. Will she escape my study and rush back to the ball? Or will she stay.
Please stay,Nightmare whispers.
“I’ll never be rid of it,” she confesses.
“Oh, it’s one of those.”
She cocks her head in curiosity. “One of those? Do you have one as well?”
My shoulders tighten, and I wave a hand toward the fire. “You must be cold standing in the shadows.”
“You must be sweating standing so close to the fire.”
My lips tip into a smile, and when they do, I see her go very still, every part of her except for the flutter of her pulse in her neck.
Ooooh, you haven’t ruined things after all. Ask her to dance! Make a grand entrance!
