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Be sad, afraid…needy?
I frowned. I went to ask—
“Don’t look at me with your golden eyes. Don’t—” He cut himself off, glancing at the cameras. Whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t want Victor to hear.
Victor.
The ringleader of this awful circus.
The director of every terrible, tragic thing we’d had to do to survive.
Helplessness rose inside me, knotting itself to all my fury and fear. My pulse pounded as I let just a fraction of lonely weakness escape. “I think I’m allowed to be a little on edge after what just happened, don’t you? I’m allowed to cry if I’m sad. I’m allowed to be angry that I’m trapped. I’m allowed to want—”
“Careful, Ily.” He went fatally still. “Be very fucking careful.”
I didn’t know if his warning was for the cameras or genuine.
I tried to read his stiff body language.
But I couldn’t.
And suddenly…it was too much.
I couldn’t be around him feeling the way I did.
I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything.
Especially not need or attraction or confusion or anger or resentment.
I’d say something that would get us killed.
And I probably wouldn’t regret it.
“You know what?” I crossed my arms, shuddering as I brushed my nipples. “I think I’d prefer to sleep with the other jewels tonight.”
He dropped his hands, rearing back as if I’d slapped him.
I swayed on the bed.
Where had those words come from? I hadn’t even been thinking them. I hadn’t even acknowledged where I would sleep or what would happen now we were alone. All I knew was the urge to run returned with an unbearable burn, and I didn’t know how much more I could stand.
Peter.
I wanted his prickly no-nonsense attitude. There were no shades with him. No script I had to follow. I wanted to sleep beside all the other jewels so I could strengthen my vow to stay strong and save them.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I sucked in a breath and stood.
My white negligee might as well have been nonexistent.
I felt naked and exposed.
Collared and cuffed.
And alone.
So horribly, horribly alone.
Henri glowered as I stood on the other side of the mattress. The carved wooden spirals of the four-poster bed speared toward the black-painted ceiling. “You’d prefer to sleep with him you mean.”
