Struck by the urge to comfort him, I reach out to place my hand on his shoulder, but he’s faster, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t touch me.”
An ache blooms in my chest at the hard look in his eyes, and he drops my hand like touching me disgusts him. “Just… Go away.”
His rejection stings more than it has any right to. Blinking away tears, I turn my back to him so that he doesn’t see me cry.
Sparks from the fire shoot into the air as I leave the room. Minutes later, I return with a towel to wipe up the spillage.
Darian remains silent while I mop up the whiskey, but I feel his eyes on me.
“Leave it to the cleaners.” His honeyed voice warms my back.
I ignore him as I continue cleaning, maybe because if I stop, I have no reason to stay here with him. He wants me to leave, but I can’t bring myself to walk away when he’s like this. I want to stay.
“Leave it,” he snaps, sitting forward and wrenching me back by my arm. I fall against the couch, trapped between his legs as his fingers dig into my skin.
He presses his lips to my temple and whispers, “Why won’t you just leave?”
The scent of whiskey on his breath makes me want to lift my chin and taste it on his lips. To feel his prickly stubble against my skin.
I wet my lips instead, savoring the feel of him this close. “I don’t want to.”
“I’m not good for you,” he replies as my pulse pounds beneath his fingertips on my wrist.
My first instinct is to argue and tell him that only I know who and what is good for me, but I bite my tongue, a little concerned about my reaction. Although I want to keep my guard raised, I can feel it lowering in his presence.
“Darian?” I ask instead as he releases me.
He rests against the couch, his eyes closed. “Hmm?”
“Why did you make the deal?”
“What deal?” he slurs.
“The marriage deal.”
His brows pull together, as if in pain. “I wanted him to suf…” He drifts off midsentence.
“You wanted what?” I sit up straighter. “What did you want?”
“It doesn’t matter.” His dejection has me moving closer.
I climb onto the couch, settling beside him, and study his face now that he’s half asleep and barely aware of my presence. He’s devastatingly handsome, with dark lashes fanning his cheeks and thin yet full lips that look far too tempting.
I stare at them for too long, imagining leaning in and tracing the seam with my tongue.
It doesn’t help that I know the sounds he makes when he’s aroused. Besides, it wasn’t that long ago I wanted to kill him and see the life drain from his eyes.
His gun rests beside him on the couch, so I pick it up, feeling its weight in my hand, and press it to his temple. How easy it would be to pull the trigger and end him.
His heavy-lidded blue eyes open, and he sweeps them over my face. I hold my breath as he reaches out to brush my hair away from my brow.
“I’m sorry for everything. It was wrong of me to bring you into my world for my own selfish reasons.”
“I was going to attack the party.”
He drops his hand, his eyes falling shut. “I know.”
“Kill you and your friends.”
