Page 78 of Ice Darling
“You’re a man who cares about consent,” I say softly, stopping right in front of him.
He looks down at me. “Most men do.”
“Oh, you’d be so surprised how many don’t.”
“Most decent ones do,” he amends.
“But you’re a tad more than decent.”
He lifts a brow.
I gesture to the line of my doorway where he’s still refusing to enter. “With this high of a standard, do you”—my eyes drop to his lips—“ask for permission before you…?”
“Kiss someone?”
I step out into the hallway with him. He doesn’t step back, and so I end up crowding his space, blocked as I am by the wall of his body.
“I’m so curious,” I whisper, eyes locked on him.
“Cordelia.” He rasps my name. It almost sounds like a warning. Not to get too close. Not to cross the line. Not to push him to a point of no return.
I lean forward just an inch, testing that resolve.
He tries to hide it, but I catch his attention snapping to my mouth as I do. Tension swirls through the air.
We’re closer than we’ve ever been before.
Renthrow takes a deep, centering breath and shuts his eyes, fighting me. Fightingthis. I see the muscles in his jaw working, and I know he’s about to pull back, just as he did that night when he touched my face and pushed my hair behind my ear.
So I lift my un-bandaged hand and, with the gentlest touch, smooth his collar, taking the liberty to run my hand down his shoulder and arm. His eyes open and fasten on me.
“Do you?” I press, batting my eyelashes just a tad.
His pupils dilate when I touch him. He moves closer and leans in until his nose nudges mine. His labored breath fans over my lips, and my heart races crazily.
This feeling is new.
Electrifying.
Every part of me wants him to close that gap and kiss me. The tension between us is strong, so delectable. I know it’s going to be amazing if he gives in.
But Renthrow bypasses my lips and slides his cheek against mine until he gets to my ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The tension shatters, and my lips curl instantly in a smile. Maybe I’m getting rusty because I don’t think I won that game, but somehow, I don’t mind that I lost.
He straightens, and I see a smile tugging on his lips too. “I didn’t take you for a flirt.”
I bark out a laugh. “Me? I was just asking a question.”
Renthrow’s eyes slide over me, moving inch by inch until I’m burning up from the inside out. “Right.”
How he backs one simple word with a ton-load of disbelief is beyond me.
“You’re the one who started talking about kissing.”
His eyes widen as if he’s been exposed. “I…thought that’s what you were going to ask.”
“I was going to ask if you get permission before you hold hands.”
