Page 9 of Savage Truce

Ohhh. Right.

“Yes.” I glance around the room. “I love it.”

“Why do you love it?”

“I get to create costumes.”

Setting the Coke down, I get up and walk to a cupboard. I carefully pull out the dress I’ve been working on during my spare time.

I want to look my best when I meet my grandfather so I can hold my head high no matter what happens.

I lift the hanger high and brush my free hand over the lilac-colored silk. “This is what I’m working on right now.”

Rodian rises to his full height, and coming closer, he takes hold of my hand and moves the dress to hang in front of me. When his gaze burns up and down my body, I begin to feel self-conscious.

Hating it, I lift my chin and shove the negative emotion away, then Rodian’s eyes collide with mine, and his tone sounds rougher when he says, “You will look beautiful in the dress.” He’s still holding my hand, and his thumb brushes over my skin, sending a wave of tingles rushing up my arm. “Spend tonight with me and give me the chance to get to know you.”

Say what now?

My brain misfires, and for a long moment I stare at him before my ability to string a coherent sentence together returns. As I tilt my head back, it once again registers how tall and muscular he is.

When I take too long to respond, he says, “Please, Anastasia. I promise to behave. I just want to spend time with you.”

There’s only one answer. Anything else would be madness on my part. “Okay.”

A pleased smirk tugs at his lips, then he pulls back and slowly walks around the room, looking at the fabrics and threads. “How long have you worked at the theater?”

“Just over two years. I was lucky to get a job right after graduating.”

Rodian’s eyes snap to my face. “How old are you?”

“I’m turning twenty-one in two weeks.”

When his right eyebrow raises slightly, I can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

“Would you have a problem dating someone older?”

It takes me way too long to realize he’s referring to himself. “How much older are we talking?” I ask while I hang the dress back in the cupboard.

“My birthday is in three months, so give or take twelve years.”

I spin around and gape at him. “You’re thirty-two?”

Slowly, Rodian moves closer, looking like a lion that’s prowling. “Is that a problem?”

When he stops inches from me, I have to tilt my head back.

“No, not really.” I clear my throat and nervously tuck some hair behind my ear. “A person’s personality matters more to me.”

“What qualities do you find most attractive?”

The way he looks at me feels like his eyes are actually caressing my face and he’s waiting with bated breath to hear my answer.

Like whatever I say is important.

It makes me look deeper than his attractive appearance, noticing how he’s one hundred percent focused on me.

I exhale slowly before saying, “Someone who’s thoughtful, dependable, respectful, confident…” I don’t look away as I finish with, “and even though the person is very strong and direct, they can be gentle.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and feeling overwhelmed by his mere presence, I dart around him and walk back to the table to take a seat. My voice sounds a little squeaky as I ask, “What matters most to you?”