Page 13 of Liars and Liaisons

It’s empty.

Nausea churns violently in my stomach.

Does that mean he didn’t use anything or that we didn’t get that far?

Pushing to my feet, I hook my finger in the heel’s ankle strap and turn around slowly, cataloging everything in the room. I don’t see my dress anywhere, which makes the panic in my chest rise to all new levels.

When I glance over the mattress, I stop breathing altogether.

Vivid, striking emerald eyes stare at me, set around a long nose and bow-shaped lips, and I remember—the man in the orgy room last night. His eyes glowed green, and I thought it was a trick of the fire.

Thought it was Nate, though there’s no mistaking the harsh gaze glaring at me from the bed.

Light stubble lines the severe cut of his jaw, and I realize he’s handsome in an immortal way. Like an ancient god who once fraternized with the humans and then found himself trapped as one.

“It’s impolite to leave without saying good-bye,” he rasps, that voice deep and melodic and rife with sleep.

When his gaze dips to my body, I suck in a sudden gasp as it dawns on me that I’m naked.

He seems perfectly unbothered by my nudity. The thick slants of his dark brows draw inward, both slashed with a tiny dash of missing hair, but otherwise, he remains completely in place. Unflappable and unmoving.

It’s annoying.

I feel like I’m going to vomit.

“What is going on?” I finally manage, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “Who are you?”

“Wow, already a nameless notch on your bedpost?”

“We didnothave sex.”

His brows arch. “For someone who can’t remember my name, or what she’s doing waking up in bed with a gorgeous stranger, you seem awfully sure about that.”

Iamsure—a girl is supposed to know, right? The tenderness in my muscles is there, particularly when I flex my legs, but other than that, there’s no real evidence. I don’t feel anything—raw or sticky or violated. I don’t feeldifferent.

Then again, I don’t remember anything either. There’s just this emptiness floating around my mind, like dense rain clouds blocking out all sunlight.

With a sigh, the man climbs out of bed, revealing the harsh, taut planes of his back and rigid muscles in his arms. I scan the large tattoo etched into his tanned skin, then glance again at the mask, wondering what this guy’s deal is with goats and goat-like creatures; the shaded ram skull spans his entire upper back with the horns curling over broad shoulder blades.

It feels sinister, and I’m now doubly concerned for my well-being.

I clench my fingers into fists when he strides, fully naked, to an orange armchair in the corner of the room. A black suit is draped over the upholstered back, and he sluggishly steps into the pants, then pulls the white undershirt on, turning as he fastens each button up his sternum with an unhurried gait I imagine he must have practiced.

He reaches behind himself and snatches a black garment, then tosses it in my direction. It lands at my feet and I realize it’s my dress from last night.

Nausea thrashes around in my stomach again.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

I can’t force any words past my parched throat.

He stuffs his massive hands into his pants pockets, rocking back on his heels as he fishes out a small wallet and holds it up between two fingers. Barely big enough to hold a license and a useless debit card, but I still managed to tuck it into a sheer red garter on one of my thighs.

The garter that’s now missing, evidently not with the dress he’s returned to me.

The man sighs, shaking his head. Dark brown strands of hair fall into his eyes.

Finally, my voice appears again. “Look, I don’t know what happened last night, but clearly, this is somecolossalmisunderstanding. I’m not… I don’t do things like this.Ever.”

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