I frown.
He’s treating me like I’m a child again, and it’s dampening my certitude. I’m just about to tell him exactly that when my other wrist is snatched up and tucked into the crook of Rhordyn’s arm. I’m peeled away from Baze, who flashes me an unapologetic wink before disappearing into the crowd.
Traitor.
“Are you not wearing any undergarments?” Rhordyn asks, the pulse of his icy voice hitting the shell of my ear.
“You’ll never know,” I purr, pretending I’m not affected by the strike of his words. By his manly musk twisting around me like greedy fingers, or by the way he’s holding me against the strong pillar of his body.
He grunts, and I become all too aware of his black suede pants brushing the exposed slice of my leg ...
He’s weaving me through the crowd, holding me like he doesn’t want to lose grip, and it’s messing with my head.
I don’t appreciate this ...effecthe has over me.
Especially not now.
A waitress buzzes close and offers us bite-sized slices of bread capped with roe and a creamy spread. I take one despite my churning stomach, my heart suffering the expected pinch of disappointment when Rhordyn waves her off, scowling as if the very sight of it repulses him.
Something inside mesnaps.
Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m wearing a roomful of curious stares I’m convinced are studying my mask for flaws. Perhaps it’s that I’m treading the thin line between composure and another embarrassing public breakdown should something set me off. Perhaps it’s simply that he’shere, screwing with my head, but I shove the canapé at his face and glare into twin wells of scarcely veiled composure.
Wide.Unblinking.
Right now, this tiny, pre-dinner nibble is equally as threatening as a weapon poised at his throat. He knows it. I can see in his eyes that he recognizes the challenge I’ve staked in the ground between us.
The question is, what’s he going to do?
A moment hangs, the silence between us roars, and it feels like we’re the only two people in the room. Us ...and this little piece of bread.
His head banks to the side, and he regards me with the intensity of an artist’s chisel, like he’s looking for something to chip away.
I make sure he sees nothing but the icy resolve I wish I hadn’t learned from him.
A line forms between his brows, gaze passing to my offering.
I lift my chin, hand mimicking the motion, thrusting the food closer to his face.
Rhordyn clears his throat and snatches the canapé, shoving it in his mouth. I swear he barely chews before he swallows, and something sparks in his eyes that sends a chill shooting down my spine ...
Something akin tohate.
“Happy?” he bites out, and I release a captive breath, unaware I’d been holding it this entire time.
He just ate in front of me ...
It should be insignificant, but for me ... it’severything.
I nod.
“Good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, how thefuckdid you get out of your tower?”
It’s hard not to wilt at the growl in his voice, his eyes churning with unsaid threats.
I break away from his scrutiny, feigning disinterest. “I have my ways.”
He grips hold of my arm again, steering me in a wide arc around a waitress bearing a tray of flutes. “I’ll be investigating.”
