Page 63 of The Vow

His head gave a small turn, his eyes following as far as they could as I moved slowly around to his back. There were even more scars there. Several with the distinct round outline of a bullet.

Feeling the back of my throat start to burn, I jerked my attention to the column of his spine and quickly slipped into the recollection of how every muscle moved like ribbons around a maypole when he swam laps at night. Their breathtaking synchronicity only outdone by the powerful kick of his legs, driven by his tightly honed ass.

My chin snapped up, and I quickly put one foot in front of the other, bringing me back to his front.

Now, his gaze was as openly assessing as mine, roaming with flagrant vagrancy over my front. Even though I knew it couldn’t be possible, I still glanced at my chest to make sure my pebbled nipples weren’t poking through his jacket. They weren’t, but I doubted it mattered. He stared like he could see right through the layers of wet fabric to the physical confession of my desire.

His head lifted, the wool of his eyes wrapping mine in a kind of lethal hypnosis that made me shiver, bringing full awareness to the fact that my nipples weren’t just exquisitely hard but also painful where they pressed to my clothes.

“Are you satisfied now, Robber?” he demanded roughly, the sound grating on my nerves.

No,but my voice got lost in the column of my throat.

It was a trap. He knew I wouldn’t see any damage, but he’d lured me with the possibility anyway. There had to be another way to prove I was right—that he was still holding back.

I reached out, and with a speed I wasn’t expecting, found the slender joint of my wrist imprisoned in his firm grip.

A hiss bled through my lips. Or maybe it was through his.

“I know you’re hurt.” Our stares sparred, the clash as hard and threatening as swords.

His head dipped lower, and my heart pushed against my chest, preening for the feel of his breath against its beat. “I’ve been hurting every day that I’ve been without you.”

I stiffened, the tenderness of his words was just as much of a shock to my heart as the thought that followed them.Then you shouldn’t have left.

Thankfully—miraculously, the thought didn’t materialize in my voice, so instead I was able to say, “I mean, I know that Belmont injured you.”

“Do you see any injury?” He gave one last-ditch effort, his fingers clamping around my wrist.

The tip of my tongue pushed out and dragged along my lips, armoring them for the truth that would hurt me, too. “I think we both know that the worst injuries aren’t the ones that are seen.”

Anger injected another pulse into his jaw.

“But if you want me to believe you, then let me feel,” I went on, giving myself the freedom to step closer—to put myself right inside the jaws of the lion and trust him not to bite as I taunted, “Just think of the opportunity you’d be wasting…to have me willingly…touch you.”

I fed the beast in him. The one that clawed dark desire intohis gray eyes. The one that hammered heat into his thumping pulse. And the one that swelled his cock until it stretched the fabric of his pants so tight, the zipper threatened to pop.

“Do you want to touch me, Robber?”

I clenched my jaw. “I want to know what happened.”

“Do you.” He lowered his head an inch. “Want to.” And another. “Touch me?”

It was another trick. A piece of bait laid in the center of a trap. But God help me, at what point would I just admit I wanted the bait… and that I wanted to be trapped.

“Yes.”

It shouldn’t thrill me the way he quaked at my response, like he was the one made vulnerable, rather than me.

“Then I want a trade.”

I stiffened. I drew the line at him touching me. I had to because I knew the moment he did, I wouldn’t be able to resist letting him take everything. And for no other reason than I missed him. I missed the man I’d let into all the shadowed recesses of my lonely, fractured heart. I missed the man who hadn’t shielded me from danger but brought me into its fold to fight by his side. I missed the man I’d married without question because I couldn’t imagine a single day without him.

“I’ll give you your answers if you give me some in return.”

The relief I felt was momentary. He wasn’t asking to touch me in return, but somehow, I knew his questions—whatever answers he wanted would be just as dangerous.

But at this point, what was one more deal with the devil?

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