Oh. That’s a good question.‘Would you believe it if I said I got dressed in the dark?’ I look down at my hideous ensemble. Daggy knee socks, hoodie and uggs. Not to mention a highly probable drizzle of drool at my chin. And God only knows what my hair must look like. My hand goes there self-consciously to pat and smooth.
‘I wouldn’t doubt it,’ he answers. ‘Are they some sort of hideous house slipper?’
‘No.’ Wiggling my toes in their furry covering, I rock back on my heel. ‘They’re uggs.’
‘They’re ug-ly.’
I join him in frowning down at my feet. ‘Would you like a drink?’ As I lift my gaze, I suddenly grasp that he’s probably had enough. Yes, that’s it. He’s a little bit drunk!
‘I didn’t come here to drink.’ His gaze remains on the floor, allowing me to study unhindered the day-worth of stubble on his chin.
‘Okay, then to what do I owe this...’
His head comes up fast as he steps into me, hands feeding into my hair. ‘Pleasure?’ he breathes. ‘My god, I want to be the source of all of your pleasure. Your suffering, too.’
What’s that supposed to mean? Brain—wake up! Did he hear me bang my shin?
‘Tell me where you’ve been this evening, Katherine.’
‘Where—’
‘Who you were with?’ His words are soft, barely a whisper but his eyes burn molten amber.
‘I went out with Niamh.’ My voice comes out as a sigh and I feel almost as though his hands are holding me up, preventing me from dissolving into the ground at his feet.Shouldn’t I be pissed off, rather than turned on at this point, especially after the way we left things?
‘And the blond?’
‘What?’ As I straighten instinctively, my hair pulls against his hands.
‘You left with a blond.’
His hands slip to my shoulders, his eyes roaming my face, looking for a sign, some indication, but of what, I have no clue. ‘You can stop with the innocent expression, because I think we both know who.’
‘Innocent wha—have you beenspyingon me?’
‘Have you something to hide?’
I try to pull out of his arms with limited success. ‘Yes, I left with Matt,my neighbour, if that’s who you mean.We shared a cab.’
His hands drift to my waist, his voice low and husky. ‘You see how this looks. I almost didn’t come.’ His words breathe across my face and I inhale the scent of whiskey and Kai. ‘But I can’t seem to help it, it’s like I no longer have the choice. I move, no, I gravitate toward you like you’re magnetized.’ Pulling on my hips, his forehead rests above my own.
I’m lost for words. Surely he’s got it the wrong way around. I’m the one drawn to him, dancing around his flame, feeling his heat while fearinghisburn.
‘Are you drunk?’
‘What I am is unhinged.’ He chuckles darkly, eyes closed. ‘And welllubricated.’ He draws out the last word, exhaling a painful sounding sigh.
Confusion gives way to a flash of annoyance—turning up drunk without even letting me know he was back! When I said maybe I’d see him, I didn’t mean whenever he’d like. And how is it even possible that this gorgeous man doesn’t realise I’m interested only in him?
‘Kai, come on, would you even do me in these socks?’ I pull away, wiggling my ugg covered foot, hoping there’s some levity in the motion.
‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,’ he growls, grasping my shoulders. ‘Other than you do this deliberately, to make me jealous. To force my hand.’
‘Force your—Kai, we left together because he livesnext door. I have no interest in the man. We shared a cab. End of story.’ My words, part exasperation, part plea, match my hands floundering in the air. ‘Don’t you know what you do to me?’
‘I know what I want to do to you.’
Gravelly and low, the words explode in the pit of my gut, desire both swift and treacherous.
‘Tell me,’ I whisper, unable to help myself.
‘I want to put you over my knee.’
His words are enunciated clearly, each sound sharp enough to hurt. He straightens, fire still flickering in the depths of his gaze and I don’t so much speak as sigh my answer, though he hasn’t exactly whispered sweet nothings to entice me into bed.
Sliding the jacket from his arms, he throws it against the chair.
‘The bedroom. Which way?’
