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The momentary fear vanishes, replaced by pounding fury. If I’m not hallucinating, and that was Jasper, I’m going to ring his fucking scrawny neck. How dare he threaten what’s mine?
Maisy’s soft footsteps jerk me from the downward spiral of rage. She stands in front of me with a mop in one hand and a dustbuster in the other.
I reach for both, shaking my head. “I’ll do it. I don’t want you to cut yourself.” With her luck, she’ll bleed out in the kitchen from an errant shard of glass.
She watches me, curious eyes intent on mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?” The fear in her gaze has diminished, a glossy sheen curtaining the deep green. She’s probably already tipsy after inhaling nearly two glasses of wine in seconds.
“Yes, I’m fine. Are you?”
Maisy glances down at her floral-print dress and scowls. “I’m just peachy, but my dress on the other hand looks like wardrobe from a slasher flick.”
I swallow hard, the grisly visual hitting much too close to home. Dropping the mop and the dustbuster, I scoop her into my arms, sidestepping the mess.
“What are you doing?” she squeals.
“I’m taking you upstairs to get cleaned up.”
“I can walk, you know.” But she doesn’t make a move to push out of my hold. I’m wearing her down, finally.
“I know, but I can’t help but feel a little responsible for your ankle, and now your dress.”
“A little?” Her voice rises a few notches.
Ignoring her quip, I march to the living room and as we pass the kitchen island, Maisy reaches for the bottle of wine. Wrapping her fingers tight around the neck, she cradles it against her chest. “I think I’m going to need more of this.”
“Whatever you want, little fox. Tonight is all about you.”
CHAPTER 17
THIS WAS A BAD IDEA
Maisy
Nico gently lowers me onto the edge of the bathtub and spins on the faucet then pours in a cupful of lavender bath oil, much like he did the first time he brought me to bathe. How has this man weaseled his way into not only my bathroom but my life so easily? Not even Rose has ever been up here.
He stares down at me expectantly, and unlike last time, he doesn’t move.
“You can go now,” I whisper.
His jaw clenches tight, an unreadable emotion flashing across those profound blue orbs. “Not this time, little fox. I’m not letting you out of my sight this evening.”
My breath hitches at his foreboding timbre, and a whisper of fear snakes up my spine. “Because of the shadow?” Could someone really have been out there? I was fairly certain my only stalker was looming over me as we speak.
“That and other things.” A sinful smirk curls the corners of his lips and just like that the fear vanishes, replaced by something I should be much more terrified of. “I promised to make you come tonight, and I don’t see any reason to prolong the inevitable.”
Heat races between my legs, and I squeeze my thighs together to extinguish the burning flames.
Nico crouches down and twists the faucet, and with the absence of rushing water, a thick silence descends over us. His gaze moves from the splotches of wine at the hem of my dress up my torso, leaving a scorching trail in its wake.
For fork’s sake, how does he do that with just one look?
His lips twist as they regard the wine splatters. “Let’s get that off you.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of my tongue, but instead of letting it free, I reach for the bottle of wine and drown it with the pungent alcohol. I agreed to let him stay, right? If I’m going to hell, I might as well enjoy the ride.
As if he’s read my thoughts, his long fingers clamp around the hem of my dress. A shudder races up my spine as he drags the soft material up my thighs.
“Wait!” I blurt when he reaches my panty line.
