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“Not people. You.”
He stands up before I can process his words. His fingers trace my cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before he grabs my chin. He looks down at me without his usual disregard and studies my face so intently, so lovingly, that if I were watching the scene from the outside, I’d mistake it for affection between a married couple.
His touch burns, but his intense stare leaves me frozen. It’s like he’s searching for something. What, I don’t know.
Finally, he releases me. “Sleep tight, Mrs. King.”
Eli walks out with firm, measured strides. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me in a perpetual state of confusion and unbearable warmth.
What type of game are we playing now? Because no one informed me of the new rules.
He was supposed to regard me with contempt, so what the hell is up with this sudden change?
The following morning,I’m surprised to find Eli in the kitchen.
He’s typically out of the house by the time I wake up at ten in the morning and comes back late in the evening, normally after I retreat to my room to battle my usual war with insomnia.
A battle I totally lost last night because I only went to sleep at, like, four in the morning.
I consider going back to my room and disappearing until he screws off somewhere, but that would mean I’m avoiding him.
I’d rather die before giving him any ideas.
“Morning, Sam.” I beam at the old lady as I grab my smoothie and completely ignore his sore presence.
Even though there’s a whole dining room next door, he’s sitting at the kitchen table, reading from a physical newspaper like an old-fashioned lord and sipping his coffee.
Crisp white shirt, dark-blue pressed trousers, and my watch on his wrist.
Yup. Still as perfect as ever.
“Morning to you as well, Mrs. King,” he says without looking up from his newspaper. “Nice of you to finally join us. I thought the stock market would close before you graced us with your appearance.”
“Good thing I don’t handle my own investment portfolio.” I slide across from Sam as she also sips her tea and watches the exchange with no emotion. “I’m going to the greenhouse. Call me when the eyesore presence is gone, Sam.”
Eli finally stares at me over the top of his newspaper. He pauses when he catches my champagne-pink velvet skirt. It stops a bit below my arse, stretching around my slender curves.
His gaze descends from my white muslin blouse, pausing at my breasts before it takes in my bare legs and cute bunny slippers. For a moment, I can feel his big veiny hands stroking a pattern on my naked flesh, searing and marking it for anyone to see.
Stop thinking about sex and Eli.
He slides his attention back to my face. “Sit down.”
“Pass.”
“Sit your arse down before I find you a less pleasant chair.”
“Still pass. Bon appétit.” I blow him a fake kiss and make a beeline for the door.
Before I can move out of his orbit, two strong hands lift me by the waist, and I shriek as Eli shoves me down on a hard surface.
His lap.
What the?—
The smoothie sloshes in the cup before it settles like a weight in my stomach.
His taut bicep encloses me. He’s all hard—his chest, his thighs, and holy…shit. Is that his erection pressing against my arse?
