He’d posed it as a question, but it felt more like a demand, and her uncertain gaze flitted to me. “I don’t know if I should.”
I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’t stop myself. He stood awkwardly with his thick arms folded across his chest, andto someone else his posture might have looked confrontational, but I had the strange sense he’d done it to prevent himself from reaching out for me. There was a silent plea lurking in his eyes.
Although I knew it was going to be a mistake, I nodded to dismiss her. “No, it’s fine.”
She hesitated for a moment but then must have realized she didn’t care. My pulse quickened when she turned and went, pulling the door almost closed behind her.
I lifted my chin as he strode forward and stopped only a foot away from me. I wanted to hold his gaze and appear unaffected even though I felt anything but. His proximity made goosebumps burst down my legs, but they were thankfully hidden beneath my tights.
“You were listening to our conversation,” I accused.
There was no denial or remorse in his expression. “You don’t want her on your case, trust me.”
His voice was hushed so no one else could hear. It was why he’d approached, why he stood so close. Close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my face.
I matched his quiet tone. “Why?”
“Because she...” He struggled to find the right words. “Because she can’t protect you the way I can.” His dark and serious eyes went wide. This was something he hadn’t meant to reveal, and his admission sent my heartbeat into overdrive.
The room grew small, and his presence seemed to fill every inch of it.
“Why do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked.
Oh, my God.I wasn’t about to explain it to him.
“Are you worried I’m going to hurt you?” He was cautious, almost gentle, which I suspected was rare for him. He gestured toward my bruised neck. “Like the man who did that to you?”
“No,” I said quickly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Laurel.” He made a face like just the idea upset him. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my problem, not yours.” My gaze dropped to the ribbons bound at my ankles.
“What?”
It spilled from me without warning. “You’re irritatingly attractive.”
What the fuck?I turned away, desperate to be free of my embarrassment, but most of all, my desire.
He made it so much worse when he touched me again. This time his hand grasped my wrist, gently pulling me to face him again. He stared unblinking at his fingers wrapped around my wrist like he was both fascinated and horrified by what he was doing.
But not enough to let go.
The only sound between us was our breathing, rapid and uneven. Whatever this was between us, he felt it too, at least to some degree.
“I’m going to let go of you now,” he said. Like he had to verbally command his body to follow orders.
“Okay,” I whispered, neither of us moving.
The tension was both suffocating and intoxicating. It fogged my mind with bad ideas. Every second that ticked by brought me closer to stepping forward and rising to standen pointeso I could set my lips on his.
Even though he had a body built for fighting, I doubted he’d stop me if I tried.
There was chaos swirling in his eyes when his fingers finally peeled off and let my wrist go. His shoulders shifted back and put distance between us, dispelling some of the tension and making me able to breathe again.
“The good news is,” he said, “you’ll be rid of me in another day or two.” The distance seemed to give him some power back,and he cocked his head to one side. “Can you suffer through until then?”
My mouth dropped open. The emotional swing from irritation to desire and back to irritation left me reeling, like I hadn’t spotted my turn on a triple pirouette. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose. He couldn’t do anything about his physical attractiveness, but the irritating part?
