Page 79 of Wild Flame

I wanted to give in so badly, but this small niggle of doubt in the back of my mind persisted. And this time, it wasn’t my mother’s demeaning voice slicing through my desire, but my own fears.

What if I gave in and let this happen? What if I let myself fall for this man, let myself care for him, believe it would be different, only for him to hurt me too? Almost everyone I had ever cared for had hurt me. And I wasn’t a dragon rider. What if one day he decided I wasn’t good enough? What if I couldn’t give him rider children? Would he still want me then? My own parents didn’t.

“No, wait!” I jerked in his hold, pulling away from him, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

Malik instantly released me, his big chest heaving and his brow pinched in concern. “What’s wrong?”

The situation was so similar to what happened in the gazebo that I hated myself for it. I hated that I couldn’t just silence the doubts and fears in my mind and let myself be with him. “Nothing,” I said, stepping away from him and straightening my dress. “I-I just . . .” My voice came out sounding breathless and pathetic.

I saw him take in my expression and the way my arms were now crossed over my stomach. To my surprise, his face softened, and he held out a hand to me.

“Come with me, siren. I want to show you something.”

My brow furrowed as I straightened my spine and dropped my arms. “Show me what?”

He smiled. “Just trust me.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Istayed silent as I took his hand, and he led me from our suite and down the hall. Not long after, we stopped at a closed door set back in a small alcove. He unlocked it with a key he removed from his pocket. When the door swung open, I was surprised to see stone stairs on the other side.

He shot me a crooked smile and took my hand again.

The guards that had followed us at a discrete distance since we had exited our room stayed at the bottom of the stairs as we took the winding steps upward.

I wanted to ask where we were going, but I couldn’t make myself speak. My emotions were still all over the place and I was trying to find my equilibrium. Though curiosity was currently winning out.

He opened another door as we reached the top of the stairs, and I was surprised when we emerged outside onto the private rooftop.

“I got carried away before,” Malik said low, his eyes watching me as I took it all in, “but I had this prepared for us.”

The stars were out in all their glory overhead and the warm night air brushed my hair with a slight breeze, tickling across my skin and making it come alive as I took a step forward and glanced around.

I wasn’t sure how it normally appeared, but the rooftop had been turned into a lush, tropical oasis. A large flat mattress adorned with a pile of plush cushions took up the center of the space. It had been surrounded by several beautiful plants and at least a dozen lit candles. Besides the stars, they were the only source of light. A small table draped in colorful silk and cushions sat off to one side. On the table sat several delicious looking desserts and a carafe of wine and two goblets.

The entire scene was romantic and sensual and perfect. My heart constricted in my chest. He had done this for me. I turned back to face him. He looked so tall and masculine and beautiful standing there.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he stepped forward and placed solid fingers gently against my mouth, halting me.

“I did not bring you here to pressure you. I only wanted this night to be special. Siren, I know our ways and beliefs are different and that you might not be ready for anything more tonight, and I will respect that. The gods know I want you, but only when you are ready.” The back of his hand glided down my cheek. “If all we do tonight is sleep under the stars, then I will be content to simply hold you in my arms.”

At his words, my eyes drifted to his right wrist, conscious of the ink there, not even hours old. I thought of the ceremony, that kiss, and how I had felt when that dragon symbol was etched permanently into my own skin. I thought of how I felt when I was around him. His warmth, his teasing, coaxing, and sometimes wicked manner. How he came to me on the balcony the night of his father’s funeral. Or held me so tenderly after the assassins' attack. How he never once belittled me or made mefeel less than. Quite the opposite. He made me feel competent and desired and beautiful. I loved the passion he made me feel. I ached for it.

And he loved my voice. He made me want to sing.

I was so tired of being afraid—afraid to want things, afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of letting myself trust.

I stared up into his beloved eyes—at the question in them. And suddenly I knew I wanted to take the chance.

Words felt too trivial. So instead, I stepped back.

Malik let me go, but there was a tightness in his eyes as he did. He thought I was pulling away.

Taking a deep breath, I reached up to my hair. Slowly and carefully, I began to remove the ruby clips and golden chains that had been woven into the locks, one by one, placing them on the small table. When that was done, I started unpinning my hair from its elaborate style and methodically unwinding each braid.

I felt Malik’s eyes on me the entire time, but I didn’t look at him until my hair was completely loose and unbound. I hadn’t had my hair like this in front of anyone but family or my maids since I was a little girl, and I fought not to feel self-conscious as I met his stare.

His eyes were burning. He took in my face and hair as if memorizing it.

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