Page 124 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“The Heirloom reacts to our… activities,” he said, his gaze dipping provocatively. “But we never tried a controlled experiment to confirm whether the crack expands aftereveryencounter, or only certain types.”

Heat flared in my cheeks. “Uh huh. So you’re proposing?—”

“Research,” he clarified, looking far too triumphant. “Documenting which activities impact the artifact… and to what extent.”

“Meaning we’d have to keep testing. Does this involve your ‘various surfaces’?” My words came out flat even as my heart lurched with a traitorous thrill.

“Naturally. We should be thorough.” His smile was wicked. “We’d vary location, intensity, specific acts… even fantasies.”

“Fantasies?” My voice came out slightly strangled.

His smile turned slow, dangerous. “Youdohave fantasies, Arabella.”

I parted my lips, but no sound emerged. Of course I did. Over the years, but especially recently, lurid images had skittered through my head. But confessing them out loud?

“You can face down a Dark Lord”—his voice dropped—”but you can’t speak of what you dream about?”

Those words stung my pride, and I shook my head. “It’s different,” I managed. “I… it’s not something I’m used to sharing.”

Kazimir stepped closer, curiosity in his eyes. “Then let’s make this fair. I’ll share one of mine first.”

His breath skimmed along my cheek. “See that low shelf over there? I’ve pictured bending you over it, right in the midst of these forbidden texts with Magister Vellum lurking nearby. Would you stay quiet, or would I have to clap a hand over your mouth while I take you from behind?”

My heart hammered. The ferocity in his expression—the warm, electric undercurrent filling the air—damn near stole my voice.

“Kaz…” I whispered.

He brushed a thumb over my lower lip. “Does the possibility of discovery excite you, Arabella? Knowing how we might be caught?”

It did. Gods help me, it absolutely did. But I tried to muster logic. “We’re supposed to be researching,” I said weakly, even as my body betrayed me by leaning toward him.

“Thisisresearch,” he murmured, trailing his fingers down the curve of my neck. “Or a needed distraction to clear our heads.”

Trapped in his gaze, I remembered all the reasons Ishouldrefuse. But that swirl of warmth in my stomach, the memory of his hands on me, the promise of danger— Well, it was potent.

“So, Lady Blackrose?” He took the book from my arms and set it carefully on a nearby shelf. “Shall we begin our experimental trials? Right here?”

I tried to say no. Ishould havesaid no. But my traitorous lips parted, and I barely managed a whisper.

“All right,” I breathed. “Okay.”

51

RATTLE THE BOOKSHELVES (AND TRIGGER AN EARTHQUAKE)

KAZIMIR

I’d been half-joking when I proposed this “experiment”—or at least, that was the lie I told myself. Joking or not, the moment Arabella’s eyes darkened with that breathless, consenting fury, I lost my grip on any pretense of self-control.

I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, pressing her back against the bookcase. My mouth claimed hers in a hungry, demanding kiss. She met me with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in my hair to pull me closer while I pressed my body against hers.

“We need to be careful,” I murmured, doing my damnedest to hold onto a shred of rational thought. “No magic.”

“No magic,” she agreed. “Just us.”

Just us. As if that weren’t dangerous enough. My hands slid down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist through her simple blue gown, which was far too modest for the effect it had on me. I bunched the fabric in my fists, dragging it up, spurred on by the sight of her parted lips.

“Turn around,” I said.

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