Page 76 of Damsel in Disguise

Instead, I tilt my head slightly, letting my expression soften into something almost innocent.

It’s almost amusing.

He’s still expecting compliance in the form he prefers. So I give him something new. I move.

The air feels thicker with every inch I close between us, charged with tension that has nothing to do with academics and everything to do with the way his gaze tracks me.

I stop right in front of him.

Close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Close enough to catch the faint shift in his breathing. Close enough to look directly into those ocean-blue eyes without obstruction.

It’s the first time we’re seeing each other like this—fully, clearly, without shadows or distance to blur the edges.

He has no idea who I am, and I thrive in that feeling of having the upper hand.

“You do know I have a wife.”

Out of everything, that’s what he chose to remind me of. My jaw tightens instantly, a sharp clench I can’t quite suppress.

I can’t give him my voice. So I give him a clipped nod, pretending the information is irrelevant rather than something that’s always been clawing under my skin.

“Careful, Alistair Hertley,” his full name rolls off my tongue with deliberate clarity. “You’re starting to sound self-convincing.”

His nostrils flare.

“Go to my office, Miss Keinston,” his timbre is now stripped of any trace of leniency. “You’ll wait for me there until this lecture concludes. You’re dismissed for today.”

My brows frown slightly, disbelief threading through my tone. “You can’t be serious.”

It’s bruising my ego, my last name—Keinston.

“I’m afraid I am,” he replies unhesitantly. “Remove yourself from this room immediately.”

The finality in his voice leaves no place for argument.

Before the moment can stretch any further, I’m shoving my things into my bag with impatient movements.

The tension follows me, starting from getting out of my seat, all the way to the door.

I push it open harder than necessary and slam it shut with such force that it echoes down the corridor.

“Yet you still come back. Every. Single. Night.”

So he was aware of my presence all this time…

Unbothered, a silent chuckle builds in my chest, restrained but no less potent, although I try not to react.

Because you can’t help but want me more than you want her, Alistair.

“What do you want from me, little kitty?”

Does he still not know?

I step closer, drawn in by something I’ve long since stopped pretending to resist. My index finger presses lightly against his bare chest, right over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. It’s beating too hard, giving away how much I’m affecting his body.

My finger drags slowly across his skin, as nails grazing to leave a faint trail—careful not to touch the lipstick mark I left on his chest.

I trace my answer instead of speaking it—him. I want him.