“If you’d like it to be,” he says, his gaze dipping to my fingers, “I won’t say no.”
“You know, you really are the worst.” I try to sound annoyed but fail to hide the smile tugging at my lips.
“You’re the one who continues to bring up such topics. It is not my fault you are so drawn to me.”
“Drawn to you? Seriously? I’m not drawn to you.”Like I’m proving a point, I close the open cloak, hiding any bit of skin. “And I do not keep bringing anything up!”
He tilts his chin, his mouth moving in a sly half smile. “Are you sure there is not one thing you’ve brought to attention?”
Kane is good at this sexy, roguish game, I’ll give him that. Maybe I could even be the one to change his ways—make him fall for me, make him think with his heart and not with his cock—but I should know by now that there’s no changing a man like him. If I want to play this game, I have to remember the rules: it’s only our bodies, never our hearts. Knowing me, I’ll fuck it up and end up actually falling for this literal battle-scarred warrior.
I make a point to look everywhere within the carriage except at him. The walls are lined with light-gray velvet padding, and small silver sconces are positioned on each side of the curved interior. My fingers start to fidget with my dress again, and I clench and unclench them, unable to find a comfortable position.
“Enough fidgeting or I really will tell you what to do with your idle hands.” His tone is firm, dominant, and makes my heart skip. A shiver races along my spine, and a flush of heat blooms in my cheeks. I bite my lip, trying to hide the rush of unexpected anticipation coursing through me, but the way my body responds is all too clear.
Kane watches me, and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. “Would you like that, Fawn?”
He covers both my hands with one of his, and my stomach flutters.
I can’t force myself to say no, and I won’t let myself say yes. The air between us thickens with the unspoken words resting on my tongue.
Say it, Hannah. Tell him what you want.
My lips part, but no words come out.
I need him to do it, to take control.
He tilts his chin, his eyes narrowing, assessing. “Oh, I see now, Fawn. I know what you need from me.”
I swallow, my pulse racing. Every fiber of my being screams for me to close the gap between us, but I can’t move.
I clear my throat. “You couldn’t possibly.”
“Couldn’t I?” His thumb strokes the back of my hand, sending tingles thrumming up my arm. “You need me to hold the reins, Little Fawn. You cannot speak your desires,” he murmurs, leaning closer. “You cannot ask to have them filled.”
I’m tense, every muscle in my body coiled tight as Kane lifts my hand from my lap.
“But I am a consummate instructor. The only thing I need from you is to be willing.”
My fingers ache with the desire to feel him, explore, and I’m nearly breathless fantasizing about all the places he might want to touch me too. “Like you, I won’t say no.”
That sinful smile is back. “You’ll be a good girl and listen to my every command?”
I keep my nod small and nonchalant, but who am I kidding? Kane can see right through my armor of indifference cracking at the seams.
“Shall we test your listening skills?” He guides my hand closer to him, toward his lap, toward his cock.
My teeth dig into my lower lip, and I lean closer, my breath quickening. This is one test I desperately want to pass.
But instead of pressing my palm to the thick, hard heat of him, he gently places my hand in the crook of his arm. The unexpected tenderness catches me off guard, and I gulp. We sit like that while we ride, the rhythmic motion of the carriage lulling us into charged silence.
Warmth ripples from him, his scent of pine and woodsmoke curling around me, and I find myself leaning into him, seeking more of that warmth, more of him. But there’s a twinge of disappointment that lingers, a yearning for something more, something I shouldn’t want but do despite the warning bells.
“Kane,” I start, cutting through the quiet, “why do you need to get back into the palace? What exactly are you going to do to Four once you find him?”
He averts his gaze once more, his attention drawn to the broken panes of glass and the rolling hills beyond blanketed in a patchwork of vibrant green meadows and deep-purple coneflowers that sway in the gentle breeze.
“You can’t ignore me,” I say, my voice firm. “We’re trapped in this carriage together, and you’re partly responsible for that.” I move my hand from the crook of his arm and grab his knee to get his attention.
