Page 43 of Carnal Games

It’s breathing the same air as him after years of suffocation.

It’s having him close enough to touch, feel, and hold.

I bow down under the power of his stare, but not without turning the tables on him. I’m not the same mousy girl who watched him with stars in her eyes at the park. I stand my own ground. “You shouldn’t be here. The party is below.”

The words hang in the air.

Nothing in his features indicates that he heard me.

I become nervous, licking my lips as I lower my gaze.

“You’re the bride. You shouldn’t be here either.”

My head snaps up.

You shouldn’t be here at all, his eyes taunt.

But I’m stuck on the wordbride, it’s a bucket of cold water thrown on my face. It shouldn’t belong on his lips. Shouldn’t be spoken in that hard, rough, and mesmerizing voice.

I don’t want to be a bride.

Being one implies I’m off-limits.

Off-limits is the last thing in the world I want to be to him.

Why did he have to appear in my life now when I can’t do anything about it? My hands are tied. My future committed. Of all the versions in my head of meeting him for the first time, it was never on the day I became engaged to his younger brother.

“I, uh… was looking for something,” I blurt out.

“In the dark?”

“I have great eyesight.”Jeez.What are you? An eagle?“And it’s not dark. There’s light coming from the hallway, which you’re blocking.”

That was a viable reason, right?

Christ. I sound like a bumbling idiot.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shut my mouth. I wait for him to interrogate me further, call me on my bluff.

Kian is known for his intelligence, ruthlessness, and tact.

It’s what the media says that makes him an unbeatable icon in the defense and security industry. One of the top businessmen in the country. The most sought-after partner.

No way he doesn’t know I’m a big fat liar.

Everything I’m doing is stacking the odds against me.

Like fate is deliberately throwing every wrench in my way.

I startle and blink against the sudden light, looking up in time to see Kian take a step back and turn around.

That’s it?

He’s walking away from me? Without so much as a goodbye? Or a congratulations?

The last one would’ve stabbed me in the heart, but still.

I take a step toward him, then stop.

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