Page 24 of Sleepless Beauties
I wanted closure.
Neither of us got what we wanted.
My head leans into the cold glass window. It feels good to let it soak into my pounding head that’s reeling with the mix of too much and too little information. My palm settles there too, with the comfort of the cool glass against my sweaty palm.
A cracking noise snaps across the glass. The cold stings against my skin and I pull away with a pained gasp.
Only to look up at the man directly outside.
Outside my second storey apartment.
His short dark hair blows in the breeze. The suit jacket slashes back and forth against the single button holding it together against his black dress shirt. The silk ebony tie flurries sideways violently, but he just stares at me with the same stern look he left me with in the hall after the strangest kiss of my entire life.
“Kyra,” he mouths, but I can’t hear his voice as he speaks quietly near the glass, frosting it over with ice simply from his breath.
His hands lower and his biceps flex against the smooth material of his suit before he flings the window open. The lock snaps at the top and the metal of it clatters to the floor. Then he’s crawling inside. He’s prowling, and I’m backing away from the wild look in his eyes. He’s storming, matching my every step and I’m slipping away from him on careful heels that are just begging to be kicked off and abandoned.
“Rival,” I say formally.
Politely?
How am I supposed to address a high vampire?
Sir? Mister? Dark Lord of the Night?
He closes the gap with one dominating step, and then his hand is threading through my hair with a grip of pain right at the root. He slams me against the wall, releasing a gasp of anger and confusion from within me. Then his mouth is against mine in a claiming kiss that steals my breath away.
As well as any rational senses I might have owned.
My fingers grip his smooth tie as my lips part. I press into him as much as he presses into me, because something inside me is crawling up and grabbing on to the allure that he carries. It’s some kind of energy. It’s vertigo. It’s a vibration that syncs into me with all that he has, and I want that unsteady delicious feeling to live inside my heart for the rest of my fucking life.
“Kyra,” he groans against my mouth.
And just like that, the vibration strikes to an abrupt halt.
My fingers release his fine silk tie, one diligent finger at a time. My palm settles there and I shove him off me as I try to find a breath of fresh air between us. He staggers back, but not because of my force. He’s… dazed it seems.
The man who threatened my life less than seventy-two hours ago now looks torn between caressing my face and breaking it in the palm of his hand if I get too close to him.
Clarity begins to shine through in his steely eyes. He assesses me in a new light, from the top of my high ponytail to the points of my sleek black heels.
“I suppose I passed your test,” I arch a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the infuriating vampire. “Mister Royale?”
He swallows hard at the cutting sound of my tone. Dark Lord of the Night would have had the same effect, I’m sure.
His hands move swiftly as he adjusts the windsor knot of his tie, his stature shifting back into the deadly confident man I first met.
“I suppose that you’ll have to do,” he finally replies dryly.
My lips curl into a sneer.
Asshole.
“Grab your purse. Nothing else,” he instructs.
He doesn’t even look at me as he strides to the door and leaves me behind.
Emotionless.Rival Royale is an emotionless creature. Or, at least he pretends to be.
