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Hurt yourself.I heard myself say it again, a strange echo in the back of my mind – like these weeks of fear. Like months of denying what I wanted, denyingwhoI wanted, for some dream of peace that turned out to be as impossible as it was ridiculous, a burden far too heavy to be carried by me alone.
‘Oh,’ I whispered.
There was a dangerous air of victory in the little smile he sent me. ‘Made my point?’
‘I … I suppose so?’ The room seemed to tilt around me a fraction, my legs suddenly no longer so steady as a billowing relief knocked out the ground below my thoughts. ‘I mean … if you’re really, really sure …’
‘That there’s no reason for you to keep apologising if you could be kissing me instead?’ he dryly suggested. ‘Pretty sure.’
And at once it was no longer a stranger’s voice, finding me through the motions of those sensuous lips. No one could sound that much like him and still be a stranger to me – I recognised him not by tone and timbre but by the sheer sensual arrogance lacing those words, by the teasing quality that somehow resembled his every wicked smirk. There was a challenge there that I knew all too well. I hadn't been able to resist it since the first day he told me to calm down and stay out of sight – theoverwhelming allure of his reckless confidence, of a game to play and a battle to win.
Or lose.
I wouldn’t mind losing, either.
‘Bold of you to assume kissing would be the alternative,’ I said with a little snort, taking another step away from him. Damn it all, then. No more apologising. If he wanted his challenge, he would bloody well get it. ‘Who says I’m not crawling into my own bed as soon as I’m done saying sorry? It’s been a pretty long day, all in all.’
His gaze followed me even though he didn’t move a finger, the weight of his attention a thrilling caress on my skin. ‘Oh, I’ll be the first to agree sleep would be your wisest choice.’
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘So?’
‘So I assumed that wouldn’t be your preference,’ he said innocently. ‘But correct me if I’m wrong.’
If we hadn't been at war yet, that would have done the trick – the pleasant, doe-eyed audacity. Gods help me, but I’d missed the sudden, addictive rush of this game, just the two of us and no force in the world to stop us; no armies to command, no diplomatic niceties to observe, and most of all, no consequences to fear.
‘What,’ I said and scoffed, ‘you thinkIwould be tempted into foolishness by that moderately agreeable face of yours? Pinnacle of wisdom that I am?’
His eyes glinted with devilish amusement. ‘Could you tell me more about the inconceivable wisdom behind sucking people off on beaches, or is that beyond my immortal mind to grasp?’
‘I’d never do such a thing, as you know very well,’ I said indignantly. ‘The notion alone fills me with horror.’
‘Could fill you with some other things?’ he blithely offered.
It was so dangerously exhilarating, the ease with which we found this brand new rhythm – a dance as much as a sparringmatch, back and forth, dodge and strike. Armed with his voice, he was somehow even more effortlessly provocative; my body responded to the languid sensuality in his tone as if it was a physical touch. It took all I had to keep my voice from wavering as I rolled my eyes at him and said, ‘You’ll have to be a little more specific for me to even consider that offer. I don’t make blind deals with fae.’
‘Some wisdom at last, Thenessa,’ he muttered.
He pronounced the title as if he were tasting some exotic delicacy, lush lips shaping the syllables with an almost indulgent pleasure – making it sound unbearably sensual, suddenly, in that melodious accent of his native tongue. This time, there was no denying the shivers running down my spine. I just managed to huff and turn my back on him without sinking to my knees on the spot; even though I knew he could feel the heat gathering below my skin, at least my pride remained mostly intact this way.
His laughter behind me did not help the fraying seams of my self-restraint in the slightest. ‘Oh, bad news, cactus. Looking away from me is not going to shut me out anymore.’
‘Why would I want to shut you out?’ I retorted, scowling at the wall as I untangled my braid. ‘I’m notafraidof you, much as it may surprise you. I’m just preparing to go to bed, since you’ve so far failed to propose anything more substantial.’
‘On the contrary,’ he dryly said, ‘I’m offering you something rather substantial indeed.’
I huffed. ‘Your self-esteem?’
Even his chuckle somehow sent my toes curling in my boots. ‘I can feel every stutter of your heart, Em. Scoffing at me is not going to save you.’
‘I’m not here to be saved,’ I informed him without looking over my shoulder, shaking out my loose locks and kneeling to untie the laces of my boots. ‘I’m here to win.’
He didn’t reply.
Something rustled behind me – wings against shoulders or hands over wood, I couldn’t tell with my back towards him. Was he moving closer?
Or had I just imagined that feathery sound?
I cautiously straightened, skin tingling with merciless anticipation, ears straining to catch every breath and whisper. Could that have been a footstep behind me, that near-inaudible tap?
