Page 23 of House of Pawns
“It seems you don’t either, or at least, that’s what Samuel, the son of the man who ruled for over a century, said,” Ibreathe. I am very aware that Jasmine can move fifty times faster than I. She could twitch her arm and break my neck. She could crush my skull and squeeze my brain. But there is too much adrenaline coursing through my body right now.
And I love how it feels.
“And I suggest you think about the numbers for a moment,” I continue. “I’ve not even tried, and already in a week and a half you’ve lost twenty-five percent of your pawns. I call checkmate within three months.”
She shoves me away, nearly knocking me to the ground.
I don’t act scared or alarmed at losing my balance. I simply right myself. From my pocket, I pull an envelope that contains the invitation to my party and place it on the splintered table in the foyer.
I turn for the door and open it. “You need to consider your actions very carefully, Jasmine,” I tell her, and I am sincere and honest. “I am not some silly girl you can manipulate.”
Without another word, I step outside into the darkness and close the door behind me. I walk to my car, climb inside, and start down the driveway. I stop at the turnoff and in climbs Ian.
“That was…” he says as I start down the road again. Behind me, I see two more sets of headlights turn on and start to follow us. Rath, Lillian, and Samuel. “I don’t even have words for what that was, Liv.”
“Everything from here on out is a game of control,” I say. My heart isn’t even racing. I’m calm and collected…and weirdly…excited. “Things will not get out of hand again like they were just a month ago. I won’t be scared again. I won’t be toyed with.”
Ian reaches over and puts a hand on my thigh. I glance overat him in the dark. “I get that,” he says quietly. “I do. But…just be careful that you don’t go too far.”
I think about that as I drive back to the north Conrath Estate.
How far is too far? When you’re dealing with a tri-polar, wannabe House queen, and the threat of a multi-millennia old King, can one really go too far in taking control and caution?
How far is too far?
Chapter
Ten
THE STYLIST I HIRED PUTS the finishing touches on my hair, sprays it one last time, and leaves as I thank her. She’s the beautician in town. I don’t know how willing she was to come, Rath arranged her arrival and employ, but she didn’t say much despite my efforts to engage her in conversation.
I stand from the chair in my massive bathroom and hang my robe on a hook, standing in my strapless baby blue bra and matching panties. I unzip the bag my dress resides in and admire it.
The gown is layered in tiers, the same baby blue of my underthings. White beads swirl and chase around the dress. Lillian designed it to make me look sophisticated but approachable. I’m going for a grown, responsible, and respectable woman, but never someone anyone should be afraid of.
“You going to put it on or just stand there drooling over it?”
I whip around to see Ian leaning in my doorway. He wearsa perfectly fitted tux, which is enough to melt my panties clean off, but he also wears that mischievous smile of his, those smile lines I adore, and lust in his eyes.
“I don’t know, I kind of like the aftermath of not putting it on,” I respond with a smile as I turn to face him. I lean back against the counter and cross my ankles. Ian’s eyes sweep over my body, from foot to hair, in slow, lustful motion.
I admire him in return. The gray suit hugs his body, hinting at the muscles that cover every inch of him. The jacket clings to his broad shoulders. His hair is swept up and back. He looks like he belongs on the cover of some top one hundred hottest magazine spread.
Ian Ward is here, in my bathroom. With me. Me mostly naked.
We have time. Forty-five minutes to be exact until my guests, however many of them do come, arrive.
A hunger like I’ve never experienced comes over me. My eyes don’t meet Ian’s. They study his body as I cross the space to him. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even breathe as I unbutton his jacket.
I lick my lower lip, breathing in his scent that has only intensified since his resurrection. Like the woods. Like adrenaline. Like sandalwood and curses.
As I peel Ian’s jacket off, his lips come to my neck and my desire explodes. One of his hands comes to my waist, closing the distance between our bodies. The other lands on my ass, gripping it hard and possessively with perhaps just a little too much vampire strength.
But I crave more of it. I start yanking at the buttons on his shirt and clawing at his tie.
“Damn, I want you, Alivia,” Ian growls into my neck as hehoists me up like I weigh nothing at all. He turns to pin me against the door, his hips grinding into mine to keep me so far up off the floor. “Every,” he groans as he digs further into me, “bit of you.”
My head falls back against the door and my eyes roll back into my head. If he keeps this up much longer, I’m not going to be able to contain myself. “You can have me,” I pant, my breaths coming along faster and faster. “Whenever you’re ready.”
