Her hands stilled as she met his hooded gaze in the mirror. “Why?”
“Because I prefer it that way.” He crossed his arms, tugging a thumb across his lower lip, and her stupid wolf rolled over in submission.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” She grabbed a handful of pins from the vanity. “I don’t give a shit about your preferences.”
He prowled over, towering behind her, the radiant heat of his powerful body warming her back.
“Here’s why you should.” He reached an arm around her, snatching up the pins, and his breath caressed her nape. “If I can picture my hands fisted in these gorgeous strands, it will help perpetuate our little lie. People will take one whiff of my scent and believe that all I want to do, all night long, is get you back up to this room and bury my face between your legs.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the scintillating heat unfurling in her core. “Fine. If something as simple as myhairstylewill make us a more believable couple, I’ll leave it down.”
She released her hair, and the coppery waves cascaded down her shoulders. Behind her, genuine hunger flashed through Ronin’s blue-yellow eyes.
He inched closer, his soft dress shirt tickling her exposed back. “You can drop the hard-ass act this week, too. I can see right through it. You pretend you don’t need or want anyone, but the truth is, you’re terrified that someone might find out there’s absolutely nothing beneath your ice queen exterior.” He pressed his mouth against the shell of her ear. “But I can feel it. You want to unleash. You’ve just been waiting for the right male.”
A blaze of molten rage tore through her. The fuckingarroganceof this beast. “And you thinkyou’rethe right male?”
“I don’t want the job.”
His words were a well-timed blow, shredding through hidden, vulnerable parts of her heart.
Why did she evencare?
“Good.” She launched her own volley. “We’ll get through this assignment—because we have to—and then I can go back to pretending you don’t exist. Just like everyone else on the continent after your wolf was caged and you became the nobody you were always meant to be.”
“Bitch.” He tipped his head back in a barking laugh. “Claw at me all you want. But by the end of this week, you’ll bebeggingme to touch you. And not just above your ass and below your shoulders.”
“Un-fucking-likely.” She bared her teeth even as her useless wolf continued to pant and preen.
Dangerous. He was too dangerous. In more ways than she cared to admit.
She managed to get herself—and her wolf—under control, and side-stepped away, struggling to reach the zipper on the back of her dress.
He vented an exasperated sigh, then tugged her back to him and pulled her hair aside. He zipped her dress, his knuckles trailing up her spine far more tenderly than she deserved, given the vitriol she’d just spewed at him.
He turned her around, then bent down to examine her cheeks, which she knew were flushed from their argument.
Onlythe argument. Had nothing to do with his gentle touch.
“Perfect. You’ve got some color now and your breathing is heavy. The other guests might even believe we spent the afternoon enjoying each other before attending this party.”
She gawked at him, certain he’d baited her into this fight on purpose, and she almost laughed in admiration.
He opened the door and held out an elbow, which she grudgingly accepted.
Then he ushered her out of the room and into their first test.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The greenhouse on the Otto estate was a sprawling glass and metal structure topped with a central dome, and, rumor had it, outfitted with rare botanical specimens from across the Ethyrian continent.
Mireille was bursting at the seams with excited curiosity. There were plants in here that she’d never even seen in real life, had only read about in books.
“You ready?” Ronin paused outside the entrance. A symphony of tinkling glasses, shrieking laughter, and hearty conversation played beyond the doors.
Mireille’s assignments had always felt similar to her ballet performances. They were a chance to be someone else for a night. A chance to shed her baggage. A chance to get out of her own head.
And though this assignment was a bit different—she was playing herself, or at least some heightened version of herself—that familiar thrill fluttered through her stomach.
