Page 45 of Chris

“Yeah,” he said, taking one step closer to her as he spoke, “I’m not at all worried about your husband, Val. He’s a problem—an issue for me to take care of. I’m not even here for him, not really.”

Her gaze locked onto his.

Chris stepped close enough to her that her back hit the wall of the stall, and she needed to stare up at him. There was no getting away now, and he wanted something to be very clear to her. For one, because he needed for her to trust him. And for two, because this would only work if she understood what was about to happen.

“W-what are you doing?” she whispered.

Chris hadn’t intended to crowd Valeria because he wanted to make her uncomfortable, but because he needed to make sure she wouldn’t run, not when he had the chance to do this. The funny thing?

She wasn’t uncomfortable.

Not in the slightest.

Staring at him, those pupils of hers blew wide, showcasing his own reflection back to him. Her tongue peeked out to wet the seam of her lips, the action making his chest grow tight with something unusual—lust. That was before he noticed the way she looked him over, curious, yet wary, and still with interest. He bet if he touched her pulse point at her throat, he’d find her sweet heart racing like crazy.

What are you doing?

Get out of your head, asshole.

Focus.

His thoughts brought him back to the present, but barely. Because now, he concerned himself with the way Valeria’s skinny jeans molded to her shapely legs, and the low dip of her flimsy blouse that gave a peek at the valley between her breasts. Her skin, the golden sheen dotting it, pebbled from his attention, and he had the greatest urge to touch her, or God forbid … fucking taste her.

Wow.

Valeria made a small noise.

Chris’s gaze flew back up to hers. “What’s that for?”

“Me? What is that for?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The way you stare at me …”

Chris’s brow furrowed. “You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. Does no one tell you that?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Hadn’t she learned, yet?

“But I still did.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “It has been a long time since someone looked at me like that.”

“Shame, that,” he murmured. “Beautiful things should be admired by the ones who care for them, and they should be told often of their worth and value.”

Valeria dropped his stare. “I’m not worth very much here.”

“Or is it you aren’t valued?”

Their stares met again.

Chris inched closer, because he wanted her pressed against the wall, and also because something at the neckline of her shirt had caught his attention. A mark that marred her skin, but he had to be sure. Lifting his hand, a shiver that raced through Valeria when his fingertips glided along the fabric of her blouse to move it aside.

Sure enough …

He found three bruises there, a dark red that told him they were recent. He made a rough noise under his breath, though it came out thick between them and loaded with things he wasn’t sure he should say yet. Perhaps a part of him had still assumed this woman might want to be here, but he doubt she wanted to also be abused.