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Instead, her eyes darken and her gaze drops to my mouth. “Asher Gerhard,” she chides, sending lava pumping through my veins. “You are not the boy I remember from boarding school.”
Does she have any idea what the sound of my name on her lips does to me? What it makes me want to do? When her tongue slides out to lick her bottom lip, I follow the movement with sick fascination. My pulse thickens, and I can’t think of anything except how perfectly shaped Penelope’s mouth is. Always has been.
Holding her shoes in one hand, Pen flashes a smile at me and threads her fingers through mine. A sizzle of heat flows through my skin where it touches hers, and I want more. More, more, more. All of her. Whatever she’ll give me, then more again.
I glance around and, seeing no one, hurry toward a side door. Grinning when I find it open, we sneak inside. It’s a dark, narrow hallway with bare stone walls.
“Servants’ entrance,” I say in a hushed whisper. Delicious thrills thread through my body and it feels like we’re doing something very, very wrong. No one would question us, of course, but being here with Penelope…it makes my ribs crush inward.
Penelope nods, her eyes shining with a light that wasn’t there before. Her lips tug at the corners, and a bolt of lightning passes through my chest. I’m twelve years old again, sneaking away from the drudgery of boarding school with my best friend and partner in crime.
This is better than hunting companies. It’s better than talking to men like Reggie Donovan. It’s better than seeing the satisfaction in my father’s eyes when I lay another wounded business at his feet, ready for official acquisition.
Being with Penelope beats all of that, because she makes my blood pump hot in my veins. I feel alive for the first time in years. Decades. For the first time since we were at boarding school together, hiding on the roof and spending hours together away from everyone else.
We tiptoe down the hallway, ducking into a deserted room when we hear voices around the corner. I close the door and lean my ear against it, listening as the voices pass. I turn the lock in the door as softly as I can, listening for the soft snick as I keep my ear pressed against the rough wooden panel. Staff members hurry down the hallway as Penelope giggles, staring at me with fire in her eyes.
More voices approach, and Penelope lets out another laugh. She clamps her hand over her mouth, eyes flashing.
“Shh,” I say, lifting a finger but not wanting her to stop laughing at all. “They’ll hear us.”
The voices get louder, stopping right outside the door. We hear doors opening and the clinking of plates and cutlery. My eyes widen. “They’re getting ready for the meal service. We must be near the kitchens.”
“Should we go back?”
“Do you want to?”
Penelope bites her bottom lip and I have to stifle a groan. In the dim light of the room, she looks like a fallen angel. Beautiful and dangerous, like she could tear me apart with nothing more than a look. I…I kind of want her to. Her dress glitters as sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, and her face glows with wicked light.
“I feel like a kid again,” she says, shaking her head. “We used to do this kind of thing all the time.”
“If we go out now, all those staff members will see us. Do you want to have those rumors swirling about us?”
Pen rolls her eyes. “I’m sure at least one person saw us walk away. If we miss dinner, the rumors will be flying anyway.” She glances at the door, but makes no move to leave.
She turns to look at the room, and I finally drag my eyes away from Penelope long enough to notice we’re in a disused kind of common space. The staff must use this as a break room. Saggy, worn sofas line the walls, and a bookcase leans against the corner, piled high with dusty old paperbacks. A television sits on a rickety table in the corner, and a thick layer of dust covers its top panel. Penelope looks completely out of place in her elegant gown and perfectly styled hair.
In her bare feet, she steps onto the rug in the middle of the room, making a slow turn. I drink her in, committing every angle of her face and body to memory. She stares at the furniture, the walls, the small window covered in dusty blinds and sheer curtains. Then, she lifts her eyes to me.
On the other side of the door, someone turns on a stereo. Music starts blaring and the kitchen staff let out a holler.
Penelope grins. “At least the staff is having fun.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m having a lot more fun than I thought I would.” She extends her hand toward me, and I find myself walking to meet her in the center of the room. She places her hand on my shoulder, taking my arm and hooking it around her waist. “Dance with me.”
“This isn’t exactly slow dance music.”
“Shh, Asher. Just be quiet and let me feel like a woman instead of a monarch, for once. No one’s watching me here.”
My heart thumps. Can she feel it hammering against my ribs? I hook my arm around her waist, letting my other hand slide down her arm. I curl my fingers around Penelope’s waist and pull her close.
She fits perfectly. Her body melts into mine as if she was made to be there. She leans her head against my chest, right above where the worst of my scarred skin covers my body. Thank goodness I’m wearing a shirt. I stiffen for a moment, then close my eyes and rest my cheek against her head.
No one has seen my body in years. The last time I let a woman see my bare skin, the disgust was written all over her face, her desire for me evaporating in an instant.
I don’t want Penelope to look at me like that. Not now. Not ever. I don’t want her to see the monster under these fine clothes. I hold her close, feeling her breath wash over my neck, trying to push the thoughts away. As much as I love having her in my arms like this, I know it would never last. She’d take one look at my ugly skin and the light would leave her eyes. I’m not sure I can handle seeing that.
