Page 62 of Stolen Fate

She was too cute for her own good.

I listened as she fumbled a little by the wall, and then the lights came on, giving me the full sight of her in pajamas short and a light blue camisole so thin I could make out the outline of her nipples.

My mouth watered from the sight, and all I wanted to do was pick her up onto my shoulder and carry her up to my room.

I shook away the thought.

When did I lose my self-control?

“What are you doing up?” she asked, taking two tiny steps into the kitchen and pausing, as if she was afraid of getting any closer.

“I’m not going to jump you,” I said with a sardonic smile. “Unless you want me to.”

I beckoned her closer with a crook of my finger, and she rolled her eyes, though she did move further into the kitchen, taking a seat next to me on the barstool by the kitchen island.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, getting up and grabbing her a glass. I poured her two fingers of scotch and slid it over to her. She caught it with a smile.

I poured myself some as well, and I moved back to the seat next to her.

I ignored the screaming voice in my head telling me it was mistake, that I should try to stay as far away from her as possible, because I was fucking weak when it came to her. And, this close, I could almost see the golden flecks in her deep brown eyes, and I could smell the light scent of either her perfume or lotion—or, hell, it might just be her natural scent, and it was driving me insane.

My hand moved around my own glass, and I looked down at the golden liquid.

“So, what’s keeping you up?” she asked, taking a big sip.

Bad idea.

She sputtered out a cough, and I patted her back. Poor baby. I doubted she ever really drank any of the hard stuff. Even at the bar, that first night we’d met, she had stuck strictly to beer.

And I had been absolutely fascinated at the sight of her. I had watched her like some crazy stalker and had felt the first hint of jealousy when I saw her making eyes at the douchebag across from her.

I had felt it, but I had done nothing about it, because she didn’t know who I was then, and I had no right to feel so goddamn greedy when it came to her, but I did.

I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that her brother had stepped in, because it was what had brought her right into my arms that night, and I knew I should regret it, but I didn’t.

I fucking didn’t.

“Okay?” I asked, trying to keep the laughter from my voice. Her face was an adorable shade of red. She wasn’t one of those women who blushed prettily. Her entire face and chest had turned red, making her look almost feverish, and like a depraved bastard that I was, all I could think about was what I needed to do for the honor of seeing just how far that blush went.

“Yeah. That’s strong.”

I lost the battle and laughed then. Evelyn glared at me, before she joined in. Her soft laughter was like music to my ears.

“Why can’t you sleep?” I asked her before she could ask me that question again. I didn’t want to be examined too closely—I had felt so restless as of late.

She shrugged. “I just can’t.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s such a bullshit answer, you know that?”

She huffed out a small chortle. “Hey, it’s the truth.”

“Oh yeah? It’s just one of those nights, huh?”

“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked me.

“I just can’t,” I answered back.

“Oh, and I’m full of it?”

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