Page 63 of You Only Love Twice
That didn't sound like someone who hated her.
And do you think he'd have found your favorite soap if there wasn't a part of him that cared?
And then, of course, there'd been that cataclysmic clash on the table. Heat flushed through her as she caught a glimpse of the marked wall. She'd intended to push him past the brink, but the intensity of the encounter made her breath catch.
No matter what had happened between them, this man was the only one who'd ever shattered the firm guards around her heart.
He'd decimated her, leaving her quivering in the aftermath. A brutal, hard fuck, their emotions clashing like a storm of fury that erupted over them. Everything she couldn't say to him spilling between them as he kissed her. Pleasure, so intense it stole her breath, and then the shuddering climax of his claiming. It was the barest of tastes, her aching heart needing something more from him. An empty pleasure, for though she’d intended to seduce him all along, all she’d gained was physical pleasure.
It vexed her.
For days she’d been thinking if she could only get him to kiss her, everything would change. Seduction had never failed her before.
But he doesn’t trust you, and he knows how you operate.
Gemma rubbed her chest. How else was she meant to reach him? Flirting was easy. Kissing and sex were but a brief foray into her arsenal, but they’d failed to even move him. What was she meant to do? Bare her heart to him?
Trusthim?
She’d done that once, and look where it got her. Drowning on her own blood in an icy river.
A shudder swam through her. She didn’t even know what she wanted from him.
The truth was, she could have escaped a half dozen times if she’d wanted to.
She was lingering here for some reason unknown even to herself, and it had nothing to do with Malloryn, the Rogues, or even thedhampir.
It had to do with him.
What the hell are you doing, Gemma? Where does this end? Because you know it's going to end.
They couldn't stay locked away from the world forever.
There was a whole world out there trying to tear them apart. Malloryn and the Rogues. Obsidian'sdhampir. All the secrets that swirled between them.
And two opposing missions.
Thedhampirwished to destroy her London. But they would do so over her dead body.
You have to give him up. The last time you gave in to your heart, you nearly died. The Winter Palace was bombed.
And now London faced worse than that.
Gemma tugged the blanket around her naked body and paced to the window, feeling restless. It wasn't the first pain she'd felt in her life. She'd lost almost everything at various stages—her mother, her childhood friends, her heart, Dmitri.... This, too, could be overcome.
But none of this made any sense.
How did they even strip his memories from him?
What the hell was "conditioning?"
A sharp rap sounded at the door, heralding the very devil currently plaguing her thoughts. Gemma eased out a breath, her stomach suddenly filled with butterflies. "Come in."
Obsidian slipped inside, his hair still damp—presumably he'd washed elsewhere—and clothes in his arms. Every inch of him looked hard and merciless, as if he'd spent the day putting himself back together somewhere, but his fingers curled into the wool of the dress he was holding, just a faint sign he wasn't quite as composed as he seemed.
They stared at each other.
He with his back to the door, barely daring to enter, and she by the window, watching as evening encroached. The faint spill of sunset lit his pale skin and pinkened his white shirt. It strained over the bulk of his chest, drawing her attention to the corded muscle in his forearms. Once again his shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing a sprinkling of fine silvery hairs, like spider silk. A dark knot of tattoos swirled down the inside of his forearm.
