He blinks, waiting.Shit. I’ll have to do something. Swallowing the nausea, I take a small bite and exaggerate my chewing. No use in hiding this.
He smiles brightly, and my lips twitch. Not a full smile—I don’t think I know how. Not after the life I’ve had, or what I’ve done. Smiling is a luxury I was never afforded.
Reese goes back to his plate, and I spit the noodles into my napkin, casually dropping it under the table. My heel kicks it to the back corner, hidden under the long tablecloth. There, at least I did my good deed for the day.
Sipping from the wineglass, I let it soak my tongue, ridding me of the taste. I look out through the large window panes, resting my lips on the rim of the glass.
At ground level, the burgundy awnings cover the wide windows, overlooking the busy downtown Little Italy section of Boston. Snow swirls over the exposed bricks, and congested traffic lines the roads as cars roll over the bumps. The undercarriages smack into the stones, grinding noises passing through the windows, along with shouts and yells of delight.
Only a weight sits on my chest, a rock I can’t throw away.
I know the Board is out there, watching me. I know they want me and will do everything possible to attack. The problem is,there has beennothingfrom them. Nothing but tension, waiting, and the promise of something lurking in the shadows.
Aren’t you a pretty thing?
A flicker of red pulls my eyes up, across the busy street, over the tops of bumper-to-bumper traffic. Against the post light, he leans there; the snow melting into his dark locks. The brutal wind blows across his jacket, but he is as immovable as a mountain and just as resolute.
The damn Reaper. He’s a ghost come to haunt me.
Killian lifts the cigarette to his lips and inhales, the smoke curling from his nose like a demon breathing fire. He doesn’t release it, and his eyes taunt me—dare me. A promise, a warning, of what he’d do if he were closer.
I gulp, sitting back.
His jealous vows are burned into my memory. We’ve rarely spoken since the Games I hosted to find a new second, but those words hang between us. They’re a mourning shroud that wants to comfort and capture me all at once.
The bastard winks, but a smirk doesn’t cover his face. Not that I expected it.
Since the night of my father’s death, he’s become my personal shadow. Following me around the city, always stalking the halls of my home. I can’t move without seeing him there, a black mass at the corner of my eye.
Three times I’ve banned him from the compound. It does little good. No one can keep Killian Linwood out.
Killian’s head tilts slightly, and I follow his eyes to my date, icy rage causing me to shiver. I should really tell Reese—hide him from the Reaper’s warpath, but I don’t.
Reese is a good man, maybe too good. He is for me. I only go on dates as an escape, to act normal, to enjoy a life I never had under Michael’s control. But there is as much attraction between us as an ice cube and a dead fish.
There’s only one person I’ve ever willingly given my body to—and he’s currently stalking me across the street. He’s the only man to see the scars, heal the wounds, and put me back together when it happened again.
A part of me remembers his touch, how I would sigh in relief when he’d patch me up. The other part wants to raise my gun and blow a bullet through his temple for daring to make me love him.
Loved. Ilovedhim. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
“See anything interesting?”
“What?” I whip my head back to Reese. “No. Why?”
“You’ve been staring out that window for like twenty minutes.” His plate is empty, and mine has gone cold. I push it to the edge, sipping the last of my wine. “Is it the snow?”
“Yep,” I say, popping thep. “I was born in the middle of a snowstorm. It’s always my favorite time of year.”
That’s a bald-faced lie. My birthday brings up horrible memories ofwhat if. What if I didn’t kill Michael and end the marriage contract? What if I let him chain me, breed me, and become his personal toy?
But I’m very good at lying to Reese.
“Really!” His eyes light up with wonder. “That means you’ve got a birthday coming up. Are you going to celebrate?”
Shaking my head, I sigh quietly. “There’s no one to celebrate me.”
“Aw.” He grins, patting my hand affectionately, and I cringe. “You have sisters, right?”
