No.I need to stop thinking about that. I need to stop thinking about all of it. How devastating he was with his hands, his mouth, his ...
I tip back the drink and down it all in a final gulp.
“Easy there.”
I ignore him and help myself to another measure of booze. I’ve never been the sort to find my oblivion in a bottle, but I’m starting to understand why it’s such a popular solution.
Have a problem? Add alcohol, and the edges go fuzzy and your brain slows down. Still bothering you? Obviously, have a little more, or just get black-out drunk and you won’t remember anything.
My better judgment pipes up to remind me that I’m in the company of a killer.A killer with the most incredible eyes I’ve ever seen and the best taste in art.
I wander away from his piercing stare and stand in front of a totem pole in the corner with an eagle’s beak and wings extending from the top.
“Tell me about the rest of your art. It’s a pretty eclectic collection.” My tongue threatens to stumble over the last syllables, but I manage. Just barely.
“I’m a man of eclectic tastes.” His tone carries a hint of suggestion, like we’re not only talking about his taste in art.
“Meaning you were banging a brunette, a blonde, and a redhead all at the same time?” The question pops out, and I don’t want to take it back. It’s been bugging me since the night he stood me up.Was he with another woman?
Now I realize it’s more likely that he wasn’t, but I have no proof. Is it strange that I’d prefer he was out killing someone rather than having sex with another woman?
There’s something seriously wrong with me.
Another laugh spills free, and this one sounds less rusty than the first. “Just one delicious brunette.” His voice curls around my ear as the heat of his body penetrates the back of my blouse.
I spin around. “How do you move so freaking quietly? It’s creepy. Like Edward Cullen’s crazy speed.” I pause, my bookish imagination going wild. “Are you a vampire?”
His entire expression softens as he throws his head back and fills the wide-open space with laughter.
“You’re one of a kind, Temperance. Truly,” he says, and I soak up the compliment like sunshine after a hurricane. “Any other questions?”
I open my mouth to rattle off one of the many I have, but he presses a finger to my lips.
“Never mind. I know what the answer is to that. I’ll give you the answers I can. In time.” He pauses, his icy blue eyes flashing like dry lightning. “But I like that you were jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous.”
“Liar.”
He drags his finger across my bottom lip, and my tongue darts out to lick it.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Temperance.”
I like that he says my name. For some reason, it makes me feel more certain. We aren’t two complete strangers anymore. He knows who I am and where I come from, and he still looks at me the same way he did before—like he wants to devour me.
“Haven’t you heard? My life’s a dangerous game.” I don’t know where that sultry, sexy voice came from as my eyelids flutter closed and I lean toward him, my lips anticipating the brush of his.
But it doesn’t come.
I blink and stare at him. His features have lost their heat, turning to stone.
“It shouldn’t be. You should be safe. Fuck your brother for dragging you into this. Fuck me for ever touching you. Both of us should be shot.”
All my good feelings from a few moments ago dissolve, and it pisses me off.I liked those feelings.
I poke him in the chest with a finger. “Get off your high horse. I know what you are now, and you don’t see me running in the other direction because ...You. Don’t. Scare. Me.” I punctuate each of the last four words with another poke.
Lightning flashes through his gaze again, and his jaw flexes. “So be it.”