“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” Des said, and even though she was humiliated for appearing this weak in front of him, the words were exactly what she wanted to hear. She found a handkerchief and wiped her face, still turned away from him.
“I’m alone all the time, Des. Honestly, it’s my preferred state.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, so close behind her that she felt his breath on the crown of her head. “If it was, you wouldn’t keep company with demons.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe demons like me better than people,” she whispered.
Another laugh, a soft puff of air. And then, in a voice like honey, “Impossible. Not when I like you so damn much.”
Chapter 29
Des
Des wasn’t sure where the words had come from. He felt as though he were in some strange dream, and that dream-Des had wrested control from real-Des, doing and saying things he never would in the waking world.
It wasn’t as if he had never comforted a woman before; Daisy’s tears came as easily as her smiles. But that was akin to reassuring a sister, a best friend. Until tonight, he would have called Aurelie more nemesis than friend, and yet the more he learned about her, the stronger their connection grew. From her single-minded determination—wrong-headed though it may be—to her loyalty to her ability to take even the worst news in stride, he recognized himself in her in a way he could never have expected.
The fact that she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen didn’t hurt.
Aurelie stood with her back to him, her hair hanging in dark waves down to where the robe was tied around her waist. Tied up like a damned present, just waiting to be unwrapped. He was desperate to see more of her, and he was also painfully aware that if he did, he might lose his voice entirely.
She turned, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye. Her pale cheeks gleamed with tears, and hell if her skin wasn’t the softest thing he’d ever touched. Aurelie didn’t seem surprised byhis nearness, though he’d approached her silently. And even more surprising, she didn’t back away.
“You can’t possibly like me, Des. Not knowing how our parents died, not knowing what I do in this very room.”
There was a challenge in her green eyes, but Des couldn’t keep his gaze from her mouth. Was this the real reason he’d come here tonight? Was it because some part of him knew that when he turned her in a second time, she’d never forgive him? That he’d never have the opportunity to do what he’d been dreaming of for weeks? He’d certainly never be alone with her again, because he wouldn’t be foolish enough to give in to the temptation a second time. Not now that he knew how weak his defenses really were when there was no one else around to stop him.
Heshouldhate her for what she’d done. But he didn’t.
For once, he gave in to his basest, most selfish desires and pressed his thumb against that lush lower lip that had been tormenting him for weeks, eliciting a small gasp.
Startled at his own daring, he started to pull his hand away, but she caught him, pinning his thumb in place. Her fingers were much too small to wrap all the way around his wrist. They stared at each other for a moment, both willing the other to step away first.
Was it possible she wanted him, too?No. She was turning his weakness to her advantage, more likely. Perhaps she believed she was manipulating him into agreeing to her absurd scheme.
But if that were the case, he was no longer sure he cared.
With his free hand, he reached for a strand of her hair, twining it around his fingers. He was at the brink of his self-control. If she moved at all, he was going to wrap her hair around his fist and never let go.
She stayed perfectly still, as if she knew his thoughts. But then, ever so slowly, she took the pad of his thumb between her teeth, nipping it.
Des closed his eyes against the sensation. It was such a small point of contact, and yet he felt it everywhere. Instead of pulling away from him, she stepped closer, releasing his wrist to place her hands on his shoulders. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do so.
Feeling as unsteady as a colt, he brought his hands to her waist, circling it easily. The silky fabric glided over the bare skin beneath, causing all sorts of inappropriate thoughts to flood his mind. No, he could never do the things he desired with Aurelie. She wasn’t a guard. She wasn’t even a typical civilian. She was a woman who would marry someone proper, educated. She would dedicate herself to one man for the rest of her life. A man like Miles Viridian, that spineless scarecrow, who wouldn’t know how to please Aurelie if his life depended on it.
But instead of shrinking from his touch, she leaned into it. She moved one hand to his neck, tugging him down in a silent entreaty.
It was so easy to lift her and set her down on the edge of the desk, bringing her face closer to his as he moved toward her. And then those soft lips were pressed against his, and Des’s hands were tangled in her long hair, and she was making breathless noises that made him nearly crazy with longing.
It took all of his training as a guard, every last shred of self-control, to pull away and step back. “Aurelie,” he said, voice strained.
She looked up at him, her robe slipping off one pale shoulder, revealing the bandage covering the raw wounds on her otherwise flawless skin. He wanted to kill someone for allowing this tohappen to her, though he knew it was her fault as much as anyone else’s. How could she be so careless with herself? Didn’t she realize how precious she was? The space between her thighs was empty, as if she was waiting for him to fill it, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to step forward.
“We can’t,” he managed. The words he wassupposedto say, though he’d had to tear them out of his own throat. At least he’d caught himself before it was too late.
“Why not?” she asked, looking genuinely bewildered.
Des had never been more flummoxed by a question in all his life. “You’re a lady?” he said weakly.