“It’s just safer,” he repeats.
I get caught on the sharp planes and angles of his face as the word repeats in my head.Safer.I study his scar, his lush lips that I wish I could taste, and the five o’clock shadow that’s even darker than it was a couple of hours ago.
“Are you worried about us?”
For such a large man, he moves with easy grace as he closes the distance between us. “I’d be a fool not to.”
Like the rest of the world has disappeared, I hear nothing of the thumping bass or the chatter of clubgoers around me. Even my friends are invisible. All I see is him.
“You’re not a fool, Mr. Legend.”
“Just Legend. And you’re wrong, Scarlett.”
I hold my breath, searching for the courage to take another step closer as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
He’s just as unsettled by me as I am by him.I don’t know why the realization comforts me, but it does. Probably because it makes him seem more human. And if he’s sometimes a fool ... well, that means he’s fallible.
“When?”
His brow creases with confusion. “When what?”
“When were you a fool?”
He inhales, making his nostrils flare, and lifts a hand between us, almost as if he wants to touch me. But he doesn’t. His fingers hold there, frozen. “Earlier tonight.”
“When you danced with me? That wasn’t foolish.” I’m proud of the steadiness in my voice and nerves.
“Knowing what you feel like in my arms will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
My breath catches, and I stare at him in wonderment. “You make it sound like I’ll never be there again,” I whisper.
The lines of his face harden. “You deserve better than that douchebag who was in here tonight. Stay at the hotel. Have someone get your key back from him. Don’t go home until you’re sure it’s safe.” His orders are final, but he still hasn’t answered my question.
God bless alcohol, because without it, I would never be bold enough to say what is on my mind.
“You want me as much as I want you, Gabriel. Now, what are you going to do about that?”
Thirty-Five
Legend
Trouble.
That’s exactly what she is.
I stare at her face, her cheeks pink from the dance floor or the booze, with the question hanging between us.
She thinks I want her as much as she wants me.
Fuck.
She’s dead wrong about that. Because there’s no way in hell the woman in front of me knows fuck-all about the depraved things I want to do to her. The feeling of her pressed against my body hasn’t faded enough yet for me to forget how much I wanted to drag her off the dance floor, find a dark corner, pin her to the fucking wall, and take everything she doesn’t realize she’s offering.
She’s the epitome of a good girl. The high-class society princess who doesn’t associate with men who’ve even thought about the things I’ve done to survive. We couldn’t be from two more different worlds, and as much as I want to take her and drag her into mine ... I can’t.
Scarlett deserves better. Someone whose hands aren’t scarred from fighting night after night to bank every dollar possible. Someone who isn’t more comfortable in the darkness and shadows than in the light of day.
With all that on my mind, I force myself to step back. It almost kills me to watch her expression, because every single thing she feels shows on her beautiful face.