Page 106 of Safe Word

I yanked the clasp out and raked my fingers through the wreckage, trying to look less… fucked.

My gaze darted around the lounge room until I spotted Cain, still seated where I had left him. He looked different now; his shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture less commanding. The usual elegance in his features seemed duller, and there was a heaviness in his demeanour that made my chest constrict.

I approached him slowly, the sound of my heels barely audible over the music. When I reached the table, his gaze lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t quite place the feeling he gave off – was he exhausted? Or was there something deeper at play?

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, narrowing slightly as they combed over me, hanging on the new dress. His brow quirked, a mixture of confusion and intrigue flashing across his face before settling into something more measured.

‘That’s… different.’ His voice dropped, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But his gaze turned away a beat too fast. The smirk couldn’t quite mask the tension in his jaw.

Sliding into the seat across from him, I met his curious stare directly, keeping my tone light.

‘A girl offered me five hundred euros to swap dresses,’ I said, forcing a shrug. ‘Seemed like a good deal.’ The lie burned. I hated how easily it came.

His eyes narrowed, his smirk spreading further as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze – though professional – somewhat appreciative. ‘Five hundred? For a dress?’

I nodded, raising an eyebrow. ‘Why? Think I should have asked for more?’

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. ‘I just find it hard to believe someone would pay that much for a dress. Was there something wrong with this one?’

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, the heat rising to my cheeks as I looked away and shook my head.

Not this one. The other one though…

‘So,’ Cain’s lips twitched, his amusement trembling under the surface, ‘you traded a perfectly fine dress for one that—’ he glanced at the low neckline ‘—left nothing to imagination?’

I rolled my eyes, though my heart thudded a little faster under his attention. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, the smirk still lingering. But the way he repositioned told me he’d reminded himself where we were. ‘Just… unexpected.’

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. ‘And you’re such an expert on my style now?’

His smirk widened, his eyes meeting mine with a glint of mischief. ‘I pay attention.’

His gaze was branding.

My stomach flipped. A blush rose anyway, shame licking up my spine, the sensation of Ghost’s release clinging to my skin.

I was definitely losing my mind.

I focused on my dress again, pulling the hem lower, but I could still feel him staring. It wasn’t predatory, but it was intense, the kind of look that made it clear he was taking in every detail and appreciating what he saw.

‘Well, for what it’s worth,’ I said, forcing a lightness into my voice, ‘I think I pull it off.’

The quip provoked another small chuckle from him, but then the lines on his face loosened, and the smirk faded into something surprisingly gentle – and disarming.

‘You do,’ he said quietly, his voice low and sincere. ‘You make it look classy.’

My heart skipped. The warmth in his tone, the way his eyes held mine for just a second too long – it was more than just a passing remark.

‘Thanks,’ I murmured, tilting my head to hide the blush on my cheeks.

When I finally dared to glance back at him, his gaze hadn’t wavered. It was the same appreciative look any man might give a woman. But from him, it felt different. Consuming, almost. As if, for that brief moment, I was the only thing that mattered.

The thought sent a ripple of unease through me, but not the kind that made me want to pull away. It pulled me closer, tempting me to unravel the layers behind his tired eyes and teasing smirk. But I didn’t dare – because if I did, I wasn’t sure I would come back intact.

And I needed this fucking job.

Vinnie’s sudden appearance splintered the charged silence between us. He approached with two bottles of beer in hand, his grin as wide as his stride. The moment his gaze landed on me, he froze mid-step, his eyes sweeping over my dress with exaggerated slowness that made me utterly self-conscious. He whistled low, shaking his head in mock astonishment.