Page 25 of Rook
Almost.
The path narrowed, forcing them closer together as they picked their way over a fallen log. Rook's arm brushed against hers, warm even through the fabric of her sleeve. He steadied her with a light touch at her elbow when her boot slipped on a patch of moss.
If she squinted and ignored the mortal danger, it almost felt like a date. A nice nature hike with her boyfriend. The kind of thing normal people did. He'd point out constellations, she'd show him her favorite spot by the creek, and maybe they'd share a thermos of hot cocoa with just a hint of whiskey before making out on a pile of leaves. It was a pretty thought.
Except that Rook wasn't her boyfriend. He'd made it annoyingly clear that nothing was going to happen between them.
She was a distraction.
And apparently, she was still distracting him. Because unless there was some sort of dragon social-norm she was misinterpreting, he kept eye-fucking her.
An eye-fuck was an eye-fuck, no matter the planet.
His gaze would linger when he thought she wasn't looking, tracing the curve of her jaw, the line of her neck, the shape of her body in the darkness. Heat would spark in those impossibly golden eyes before he'd force himself to look away, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. Then, a minute later, his eyes would find her again, hungry and wanting and fighting it all at once.
For a guy who claimed to be focused on his mission, he sure spent a lot of time looking at her like she was the mission.
They continued in silence, the soft crunch of pine needles beneath their boots the only sound. Sasha tried to focus on the path ahead, on finding the slavers, on anything but the way her skin tingled whenever Rook came too close. She was failing miserably.
Suddenly, Rook grabbed Sasha's arm tightly.
She opened her mouth to ask what the hell he was doing when he placed his other hand over her lips.
Alright, she got the picture.
She nodded, but he still waited a beat before removing his hand.
Her finger tingled, the one that he'd basically sucked after she touched something she shouldn't have.
I know heat.
Yeah, right.
For someone who didn't want to be distracted, he wasn't acting like it.
Rook tugged her down into a crouch.
And now she was the distracted one.
His body was so close she could feel the unnatural warmth radiating from him, like standing next to a furnace on a winter day. His breathing was controlled but deep, his chest rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm that made her too aware of her own rushed breaths. His hand still gripped her forearm, firm but not painful, the touch both protective and possessive.
They duckwalked forward. "There's a canyon here," Sasha whispered. She got as close to him as she could, letting her lips brush his ear.
Rook stiffened.
His entire body went rigid, muscles coiling beneath his skin like a predator about to pounce. She felt a tremor run through him, a split-second shudder that spoke of restraint stretched to breaking. His head turned slightly toward her, their faces now inches apart. In the silvery moonlight, his eyes had a faint glow, pupils wide and dark against the gold. For one breathless moment, Sasha thought he might close that tiny gap between them.
Instead, he exhaled slowly, a wisp of actual smoke escaping between his clenched teeth.
"I thought you wanted high ground to defend," she kept talking.
It would be super embarrassing if all they were hiding from was a family of deer. Or even bears, really.
"If you're an army, yes," Rook agreed. "Though that doesn't matter much when we fight in our other forms. But a canyon is a great place to hide, especially with cloaking tech."
His other form. His dragon form.
The thought sent a shiver of fearful excitement down her spine. She tried to picture it: Rook, not as the imposing man beside her, but as something immense and scaled, with wings that could block out the moon and fire that could consume forests.
