Page 8 of Dragon Touched
He stalked toward her, stopped two feet away, and ran his gaze over the mangled dress. Without blinking, he raised his eyes to her hair, still hanging wet and tangled near her face.
She cleared her throat and raised her chin.
His lip twitched at the corner.
The royal blue shirt under the dark robe was unbuttoned. A few inches of smooth skin peeked out, along with a chain carrying a thick golden ring. His index finger and thumb toyed with it, and he advanced a few inches, closing the gap between her body and his.
She swallowed and licked her lips.
“Wedding? Not the Ninnette wedding, perchance?” He quirked a thick, blondish-brown eyebrow.
One thought careened in her head: what if he calls and tells Pops where I’m at?
Stupid. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.Too late now.
She lifted her hands, and the mud-streaked dress hung from her arms and tried to slip down her shoulders. “Afraid so—the one and only Sacha, unofficial princess to the Ninnette kingdom.”
Although she joked about the royalty part, it wasn’t far from the truth. Her father’s shady business dealings really had made him the kingpin of several organizations in the city. Vito Ninnettewasmafia aristocracy.
“You’re no princess.” His eyes raked her clothing, then he roared with deep laughter. “More like a homeless beggar—princess of the land of garbage, maybe.”
Fire climbed her neck, scorching her cheeks and the tip of her nose.
Well, his attraction level just went down a notch. What a first-class jerk.
Ugly fury twisted her insides, and she rose to her full height of five-foot, four-inches. “Why, you sorry piece of—”
He grabbed her by the upper arms and gave her a light shake. “You’re in my house now, darling, and if you don’t want me to toss you on your ear, you’ll keep your mouth closed.” The dark red gaze drifted to her lips. “Unless I want you to open it for pleasure.”
“You’re a filthy—”
He released her with a small shove.
She threw her arms out for balance and was sure she looked like a scarecrow blowing in the wind.
That crisp, sexy accent started again. “Let’s play a game, shall we? Tell you what”—he eyed her once more and leaned his scarred mouth close to her lips—“I won’t fetch daddy and your fiancée and tell them where you’re at if you’re willing to do one teensy, tiny thing for me. We’ll call it a trade of sorts.”
Sacha’s tongue darted out and swiped across her mouth. He was so close she only needed to lean in half an inch and taste those dark lips. Instead, her voice fled, and she stood frozen and unsure.
“If you’ll willingly spend the night, staying until dawn, I’ll keep mum about your little escapade.” He lifted a hand and placed it on the wall at her back, near her ear.
He smelled like exotic cologne with a hint of citrus.
Dizziness made the room swirl. Losing her balance, she stumbled. Out of reflex, her hands wrapped around his waist. Underneath the thin robe, he was hard muscle, angled planes, and burned with an inner fire.
The heat from his stare scorched her face, neck, and lower belly.
Who is this man? Why am I a stumbling, bumbling idiot now?
She felt out of her element. If this had been one of her father’s men, she’d have thrown out a passive-aggressive insult. Usually, her bodyguards were too dumb to figure out the hidden meaning of her words.
Flustered and out of sorts, she tried to assemble her thoughts. “Are you nuts?” Needing to anchor herself to something besides his hot skin, she jerked her fists away and planted them on her hips. “I’m not staying the night in some stranger’s house. Besides, the storm will be over soon, and I’llhappilybe on my way.”
“I think”—he pressed forward, and the nearness forced her spine against the wall—“you should stay because that’s what you want, love. It’s in your eyes.”
She swallowed.Was she in such a rush to return to reality and try to figure out her miserable life? To be forced into a marriage with a pimple-picker?
When he smiled, straight, white teeth greeted her. His lips were almost too red for a man. Their color reminded her of strawberries, and her mouth watered.
