Page 64 of Hexbound
Intense.
"Something bothering you, Bishop?"
"Not at all," he growled, glaring at the balls on the table as though they were at fault.
"It wouldn't have anything to do with you walking in on me, would it?"
Those knuckles whitened around the cue. "Miss Hawkins—"
"Verity."
He swore under his breath, losing all sense of that cold distance he'd been striving to maintain. "That won't happen again. I apologize, I—"
"Pity," she murmured under her breath.
Their eyes met.
"Itcannothappen again," he said firmly.
She didn't quite know what to make of that statement. Who was he trying to convince? For his eyes very clearly told a different tale as he watched her glide around the table.
This dangerous man with his polite manners and aloof behavior fascinated her. He looked at her sometimes as though he were undressing her with his eyes, but anytime they strayed into what could be construed as dangerous territory, he backed away. She'd very clearly hinted she would not be averse to extending their friendship, an offer most men she knew would not hesitate to accept, but Bishop looked as though he were fighting a battle with himself in regards to her.
What did any of it mean? Did he want her? Or not?
And what did she want?
Time to find out. Verity changed tactics. "May I play?"
"I was almost finished." He bent, his back a smooth line, the cue a dangerous weapon as he sighted along it.
"Liar." She snorted, causing his ball to misfire dangerously. "You're going to be stalking the house all night. It's not as though you're going to sleep."
Bishop swore under his breath as the white ricocheted around the table. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Like what?" She offered him a faint smile. "All of my friends threw me out of the Hex, an anonymous group of masked men are trying to kill me, and someone's trying to bring the dead to life. It's not as though I can leave the house without you, and your library is boring enough to put anyone to sleep. Don't you have any scandalous novels at all?"
"So you're lonely?" He chalked the cue.
"I do actually enjoy your company," she pointed out.
Which made him glance toward her, nostrils flaring. Ever since they'd woken yesterday morning on the sofa in his laboratory, her head resting on his lap, he'd been avoiding her.
"Though I'm not certain whether you enjoy mine or not." This was said a little quieter. All teasing aside, she wasn't quite certain where she stood with him. Sometimes she thought he might like to kiss her. At others, he couldn't get away from her quickly enough.
"Verity." His voice came softly. "I don't dislike your company. I-I—" Hesitation caught his tongue.
And she waited. God help her, but her treacherous heart beat a little harder in anticipation, her tongue locking up in her mouth.
For an answer that was not to come. Wariness filled his dark eyes and they stared at each other, as if the answer were too complex to give voice to.
"Well," she said, breathing out a false little laugh. "I guess that answers that."
If he thought she was going to stay there, then he was quite mistaken. Swallowing her disappointment, Verity gathered her skirts and turned to flee, but he caught her by the door, one hard hand locking around her wrist. "I enjoy your company," he murmured, the caress of his breath stirring the curls at her nape. "Sometimes I wish I didn't."
Verity turned to face him again, their bodies pressed closely together, with but an inch separating them... even if it felt like miles.
"Stay," he said roughly, then cleared his throat, and repeated, "Stay, and play with me."
