Page 12 of Kept in the Dark
I let her see as my eyes forge a slow path up and down her body, feeling my own tighten in response. “They are not.”
“D, are you flirting or threatening her?”
“I think this is him flirting,”Wesley chimes in, his voice thick with restrained laughter.“I suddenly understand the self-imposed celibacy.”
“Yeah, this is hard to listen to,”James agrees, his amusement also plain.“Stick to killing people, big guy.”
I nearly growl in frustration—they are breaking my concentration—but a startled laugh slips from her lips and her eyes widen, as if she cannot quite believe I am coming on with her, or perhaps that I am being so obvious about my desire. But her disbelief is not a joke, like theirs.
A noise catches my attention. My training kicks in, and I tense and shift away from her to turn in my seat towards the potential threat, only to realize it is a couple, drunkenly stumbling towards the maze. Drunk in a maze? What a terrible idea. I hate mazes.
“Right. Anyway…” The soft dejection in her voice makes me frown as I spin to face her again. Her eyes are averted now as she reaches for the shoes on the ground by her feet. She stands, depriving me of her honeyed stare, moving quickly into the grass and putting distance between us. “I’m going to head back in. It was… I was going to say that it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure there’s anythingniceabout you, is there?”
“No,” I agree, standing. “All the same, I will walk you.”
Her brows shoot up as she swallows the rest of her sentence, her jaw falling slightly open as she tilts her head up. “Really?”
“How else am I to prove my intentions to you?”
Her eyes dart across my face, searching it. Her pupils are quite large, but not with fear. With curiosity. With desire. I realize sheisinterested. She was trying to leave for some reason other than indifference. I see the hesitancy, just as clearly as I see the want and something deeper and guarded.
After a moment, she makes a pleased littlehmmnoise, and her lips twitch slightly. “I suppose it’s only fair to give you a second chance, but Iwarn you—it’s probably a lost cause. You make a pretty strong first impression.”
“You strike me as a woman who likes things strong.”
“Jesus,” she murmurs with another small laugh that zings right through me. “Nowthatwas a line.”
“Perhaps.”
“Well… you’re not wrong,” she muses. I see her visually measuring the width of the bicep closest to her, so I flex for effect, and because it pleases me to watch her eyes widen slightly.
“God, I wish I had popcorn.”
“The wild assassin is a dangerous animal, and its courting practices are as extraordinary to witness as they are befuddling,”Wesley adds in a strange voice, as if he is narrating an animal documentary.
I place a hand on her lower back, and she stiffens against it briefly, then relaxes. Satisfaction thrums in my veins.
Only my feet make noise against the stones as we walk back towards the gardens; she sticks to the grass. More couples have wandered onto the terrace for some respite and fresh air, and I am almost disappointed that we are no longer alone.
She pauses, pushing back against my hand, and I look down at her curiously. Is she having second thoughts?
Sensing my question, she lifts her arm, and the shoes sway back and forth as they dangle from her finger by the strap. “I’m not sure if it’s better to wear these or not. I took them off because my feet hurt, but the grass ends here, and those rocks look pointy.”
“D, get down on your knee and help her with her shoe. She’ll eat it up.”
“What?”Wesley asks.
“Just trust me; get down and put on her shoe for her. All those little buckles and shit? When they’ve got those long nails, it’s hard for them. Show her chivalry ain’t dead; it’s just… rough around the edges.”
Oh, now Jameswants to help?
I consider the idea for a second, then realize I like this advice. It will allow me to touch her somewhere more intimate—an ankle, the arch of her foot, a calf. I want that very much. Both my hands flex, full of sudden anxious energy to have her weight and warmth against my palms once more.
“You should wear them. Here, allow me.”
I hold out my hand expectantly, and with a curious cock of her head, she hands over the shoes. In a fluid motion, I drop to one knee, lean down, and gently grip her lower leg. She has good, strong muscles in her calves, and I cannot help but run my thumb across the smoothness of her skin.
She lets out a soft noise of surprise. “Oh!”
