Page 27 of Where the Light No Longer Follows

He raised a brow as he took it and unfolded it, reading its small content with his brows pulled together. “What is this?”

“My demands. For my time.”

He lowered his head a little, looking like he was trying to hold back a smile before he asked, “Are you bargaining with me, Silene?”

“No, you’re bargaining with me, Gabriel.” She stood, now towering over him. “Do you accept them?”

His eyes drew closed, and head dropped forward, not even an inch away from resting against her stomach. “I do,” he said, his breath brushing against the very thin sliver between her night shirt and trousers.

Silene felt her limbs weaken, grow as soft as tulip stems, almost buckling at his nearness. “You might wait downstairs while I get dressed. Also, get up now, your knees will leave a mark on my precious carpet.”

He did as told, now towering again over her, nearer than he’d ever gotten to her, their faces so close she merely needed to raise herself on her toes to press her lips to his jaw. A thought that shook her awake quicker than a bucket of cold water and had her stumbling back for some space.

“There is a chair right here,” he told her, bracing his hands on her chair and vanity, trapping her between his arms.

She grabbed a hairbrush and pressed the other end to his chest, pushing him back with it. “Out, Gabriel.”

He looked down between them as he walked backwards towards her door. “Resorting to weaponry. Very unfair of you, my pretty ruin.”

Frustrated breaths entered Silene’s lungs. “Don’t call me that.”

“As you wish, my beautiful damnation.”

Heat climbed up her neck, and she put a hand over it, hoping he’d not taken notice of what he’d done to her. “Not that either.”

He stopped right at her bedroom doorstep, stretching his arms up and bracing both his hands on the top of the doorframe, reminding Silene just how massive of a man he was. “Tell me you’ve missed me.”

“I haven’t missed you.”

“Tell me you were hoping I’d come to you.”

“I have not,” she might have lied.

“Tell me you don’t hate me again.”

“I think I’m starting to change my mind about that.”

“Then tell me you do,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, the blue of his irises invaded entirely by his dark pupils until it remained a thin ring of sapphire. “I should probably tell you,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling fast, “that I was hoping you’d call for me. I waited. I was going to wait, but something told me you might never call for me. Be cruel to me all you want, I’ve given you that right. But what cruelly have those poor flowers committed to you to leave them to wither without a drop of water?”

“They are watered only every two to three days. Even less here in Asphodel because we don’t really have any sun.”

His lips parted, and he slowly nodded. “I see. I might have killed your flowers.”

“I know.”

Gabriel looked a little stunned at her admission. “You should have stopped me.”

“It was too funny.”

“So, you were watching me.”

Forcing her amusement away, she said, “Out, Gabriel.”

His eyes gleamed as he backed away down her stairs, grinning and almost tripping because she was sure every ounce of his attention was on her. “You were watching me.”

“You were in my garden. Intruding.”

“And you were watching me.”