Page 47 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“So, you admit you called me a jerk.”
“I admit nothing.” I pick up my pace, but it’s pointless—his legs are twice as long as mine. “Maybe you’re just paranoid.”
“Paranoid?” His voice drops to that low tone that makes my pulse quicken. “About what?”
“About people talking about you behind your back. Which, considering your charming personality, probably happens a lot.”
I hear him make a sound that might be a growl, and suddenly his hand is on my arm, spinning me around to face him. We’re standing close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes, close enough that I can smell his piney, masculine scent that makes my head spin.
“My personality is perfectly fine,” he says, his voice a low rumble.
“Says who?” I challenge him, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You?”
“I don’t get any complaints.”
“Maybe people are too scared to complain.” I know I should stop pushing, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me feel reckless. “You are pretty intimidating.”
“Pretty intimidating?” He leans closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. “Just ‘pretty?’”
“Well, you’re also arrogant. And bossy. And you have this annoying habit of thinking you’re always right.”
His eyes narrow. “Anything else?”
“You’re lucky you’ve got a handsome face and good fighting skills,” I blurt out, then instantly wish I could take the words back.
But instead of the sharp retort I expect, there’s a shift in his expression. A smug look settles across his features, transforming them from intimidating to devastatingly attractive.
“You think I’m handsome?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of male satisfaction that makes heat flood my cheeks.
“I–I—” I stammer, realizing I’ve walked straight into a trap. “That’s not the point.”
“It sounded like the point to me.” Lucian looks incredibly full of himself now, and it’s doing things to my insides that I don’t have names for. “You said I have a handsome face.”
“I said you’re lucky you have one,” I correct him weakly. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” He leans even closer, and his breath ghosts across my cheek. “Because it sounded like you were complimenting my appearance.”
My face feels like it’s on fire. “You’re insufferable.”
“But handsome,” he says, and the lack of humility in his voice makes me want to smack him.
“You’re also incredibly arrogant,” I snap, trying to regain some control of this conversation. “I give you one tiny compliment, and it goes straight to your head.”
“One tiny compliment?” His eyebrows rise. “You called me handsome and praised my fighting skills. That’s at least two compliments.”
“And you’re never going to let me forget it, are you?”
“Probably not.” His expression grows even more smug, and I realize I’ve never seen him look quite this self-satisfied before. It transforms his entire face, making him look incredibly handsome in the most infuriating way possible. “Especially since you also think I hear things and I’m paranoid.”
“You do hear things, and you are paranoid,” I insist, but the words lack conviction. It’s hard to maintain my indignation when he’s looking at me like this.
“But handsome,” he repeats, clearly enjoying himself now.
“Ridiculously handsome,” I mutter, then immediately regret the amendment when he blinks at me and smiles.
“Ridiculously?”
Mortification floods through my entire body. What is wrong with me? I’ve never acted like this before—babbling about a man’s appearance, getting flustered over a simple touch. I’ve always prided myself on being practical, level-headed, but something about this mercenary makes me say the most embarrassing things.
