“Nothing,” she managed. “Why would anything be wrong?”
Armand leaned forward in the chair, but keeping pressure on the wound was the only thing Mallory knew for sure she should be doing, even while her thoughts surged with a thousand things she was quite sure sheshouldn’tbe doing, so she clung to that one insignificant task. She did not pull away. Not when his eyes darkeneda shade and dipped downward. First to her mouth. Then to the collar of her dress, buttoned all the way up her throat. Even when his gaze filled with wanting and Mallory thought she would burst into flames from the heat pooling in her stomach. Still, she did not let go.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said.
He flashed a soft, barely there smile. “I know you didn’t.” His hand found hers, helping her hold the towel to his throat. “Were you finished?”
She scanned his face. Though some hints of soap remained, she saw no sign of the blue-tinted facial hair. “I think so.”
“Thank you.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. The towel dropped to the floor.
A resigned curse whispered in her thoughts.
She didn’t bother to look at the cut, to check on the bleeding. Instead, she bent forward, dug her other hand into his hair, and kissed him.
He inhaled sharply in surprise. It was the most delicious sound.
She came to herself half a second later and jerked back, horrified. Not so much at the impropriety, but rather her utter lack of control. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”
“Please, don’t be,” he breathed, his skin mottled rouge and his eyelids half-lowered, half-pleading.
His arms encircled her waist. Suddenly she was in his lap, kissing him again, and he was kissing her, and no—no,this, the quiet moan in the back of his throat. That was certainly the most delicious sound.
His fingers cradled the back of her head. His tongue hesitantlytouched her bottom lip. Her breath caught, and she welcomed every touch, every exploration. Fingers pressing into her hips. One hand twisting the hair at the nape of her neck. Armand’s mouth left hers, and then he was burying his face into the cotton fabric at her throat. His teeth nipped at one of the buttons.
“These dresses you wear,” he said, his voice rough, “have been driving me positively mad.”
“Ar-Armand,” she gasped, fingers splayed across his chest, where she could feel the drumming of his heart. “We should… we shouldn’t…”
“You started it,” he teased, pressing a kiss to a patch of bare skin beneath her jaw.
Mallory didn’t know what sound she made, but she didn’t think it was entirely human.
Armand stilled then, his hands hot on her back. Slowly, he drew away, his expression pained. “But of course… if you wish to stop…”
Somewhere in the back of her thoughts, a tiny voice of reason knocked at her consciousness. Reminded her that he might be a murderer. Reminded her that she knew so little about him. Reminded her that falling in love was dangerous.
She told herself this wasn’t love, before sliding her arms around his neck and kissing him again. She did not know when her body had begun to crave him, but she couldn’t deny that she had wanted this for a very, very—
The chair tilted backward.
They both cried out as they toppled over, Mallory’s head barely missing the edge of the washbasin.
Armand laughed as he rolled them off the broken chair, hishands tenderly running along Mallory’s side. “This is becoming a bad habit,” he said. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
One finger lightly traced the top of her collar, and though he didn’t undo a single button, the very suggestion of it made her spine curl toward him. He bent close and placed a kiss at her temple.
Mallory let out a trembling gasp. The sound prompted Armand to flutter a collection of kisses on the soft, sensitive skin along her jawline, his teeth lightly catching her earlobe—
But it was not the kiss that had prompted the sound.
Lying on the carpet, half tucked beneath the washbasin, Mallory could see an iron hook hung on the underside of the vanity. On it were four rings cast in shades of silver and gold—including a delicate gold band with a deep blue sapphire cut into a perfect oval.
She planted her hands on Armand’s bare chest and shoved him away.
