Page 85
Something in his voice makes me look up.
And—whoa.
His eyes are glowing.
Not metaphorically.
Actually glowing.
A strange, heated light burns behind them, turning them almost otherworldly in the darkness.
Magic.
Power.
Something.
My breath catches.
“Grimm?”
“Please.”
The word is rough.
Urgent.
His fingers close around my keys. For the first time since I've met him, Grimm Palermo doesn't look completely in control. He looks like he's fighting something.
Or fighting himself.
“Just wait one moment, Agatha.”
“For what?”
His gaze searches my face.
There's so much in his expression that I can't begin to untangle it.
Want.
Frustration.
Need.
And something that looks almost like pain.
“I need you to understand—”
It's as if he's trying to tell me something without saying a single word. The problem is, I don't speak brooding-mysterious-man.
“What?” I whisper. “What am I supposed to understand?”
His jaw tightens.
“I want you to know that wasn't a no to you.”
I let out a little laugh, but there's no humor in it.
