Page 3 of King of Shadows

“Get out!”

His eyes drop to the knife, then slowly return to my face.

“You need to leave my apartment now.” I threaten him in a low voice.

And then he smirks. For fuck’s sake. There is something about that smirk that does something strange to my insides.

What is wrong with me? This man has a gun. He broke into my home. He could be a murderer for all I know, and my brain has apparently decided this is the appropriate time to notice his stupid, devastating smirk.

I need to get a grip. Survival instinct, Chloe. He takes a step toward me, and I immediately take one back.

“Don’t come any closer.”

Another step. I raise the knife higher. “I mean it.”

He looks at the knife, then at the gun in his hand. “I have a gun.”

My heart is beating so hard, my voice comes off shaky. “So?”

“Who do you think has the upper hand here?”

“Whatever. For all I know, you don't dare pull the trigger. You're scared the gunshot will draw those guys over. Or you're out of bullets and there's nothing in there at all.”

His mouth curves again. “Really?” He takes another step. “Do you want to find out?”

I’m breathing too fast now, my grip tightening around the knife as I try to keep him in my sights. He advances again, I take another step back. And that is the exact moment my towel decides to give up.

It slips, and hits the floor. Leaving me completely naked in front of him. And I can’t even bend down to grab the damn thing because I’m still pointing a knife at him.

He stops moving, and his gaze slowly travels over me, from my throat to my breasts, down the curve of my waist, before lingering between my thighs. He takes his time, as though cataloging every detail about me.

My skin goes hot everywhere his eyes touch, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of every inch of myself.

The heat creeps up my neck, and my nipples tighten beneath his stare. A pulse stirs between my thighs, an unwanted response that makes me hate how much his attention is affecting me. My grip tightens around the knife, though I’m no longer sure whether I’m holding it for protection or simply because I need something to hold on to.

At last, his gaze drags back to my face. There’s something heated and hungry in his expression now, and he doesn’t bother hiding it.

Then, a knock comes on my front door.

“They’re here.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

The pounding at the door comes again, louder this time. My heart jumps into my throat. What if he’s right about the men out there being dangerous? What if they try to harm me? Or worse, what if this is his plan to lure me into opening the door and letting his men in?

He moves quickly, closing the space between us. “Put the knife down.”

I hesitate for half a second before letting it fall.

I watch as he bends down, and picks up my towel. Before I can say anything, he wraps it securely around my chest.

His fingers brush against my skin in the process, and the brief contact sends another strange sensation through me.

I don’t understand it. I shouldn’t be feeling anything right now except fear.

He leans closer, his lips near my ear. “Solnyshko.” The word is low, rough around the edges. I don’t know what it means. “Go out now and tell them you haven't seen me. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“But can I at least change?” I whisper. “Put on a robe or something?”