Page 29 of Thief of Hearts

“And I was only trying to remove a leaf that got caught in your hair. May I?” he asked.

“Yes.” I sounded so breathless.

He reached up and I heard the rustle of the leaf coming free from my hair. Once he’d done that, he put his hands flat on the wall on either side of my head.

I should speak. Anything would be better than sitting here staring at him. “That . . . was an interesting move.”

Zain ghosted his nose over mine and it felt like he was touching me. “I have often found that ingenuity beats brawn. I do have brawn, just not as much as you.”

Other men had been bothered by that and had let me know about it.

It didn’t seem to bother him at all.

He exuded this masculine confidence that had more of an effect on me than I would have admitted.

His mouth settled just above mine, his warm breath scented with wine and spices, and more than anything I wanted to lean forward and kiss him. “Just as I thought,” he said. “It’s much better how close you are.”

It would ruin so many things if I kissed him. “I’m . . .” I had to swallow. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“I would risk far more for far less where you’re concerned.”

Such pretty words. I had to remember who and what he was. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

The ends of his mouth curled up. “You probably can’t. I guess you’ll have to watch my actions.”

“Your actions?” Could he hear my heartbeat? “Those of a thief? If you were planning on stealing from me, I’m not sure I have anything worth stealing.”

His smile got bigger. “That’s not true.” His eyes traveled down my body and I wanted it to be his hands instead. “I know that you could stop me if you wanted to. But would you let me steal a kiss?”

Chapter Ten

It felt like harpy eagles were beating their giant wings inside my stomach and my lips tingled in anticipation.

He smiled. “I can imagine that stealing a kiss from you would be extremely satisfying. And enjoyable.”

This was a bad idea. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember exactly why, but I knew that I had to stop.

Someone knocked over a stack of plates and they crashed to the floor. Zain turned his head and I took the opportunity to slide down the wall and under his arms, walking several feet away.

He didn’t follow me but turned and leaned against the wall. Occupying the same space that I just had.

I should have been proud of myself. I had wanted to stay in control and I had managed to. Barely.

But instead all I felt was frustration.

Needing to fill the silence, I said, “Tell me about the other competitors.” I was sure he had spent time studying them, and I wanted him to talk until I could regain control of my limbs and breathing.

Thankfully, he did as I requested. “You know about the Sagari.”

“A people who spend all their time drinking and reveling will not be serious competition,” I said.

“To the contrary, this tournament is extremely important to Sagaris. They want it to be greater than the Pythian Games and so they spend an exorbitant amount of money to train their athletes with the best coaches and trainers they can purchase. They will be more formidable than you imagine. And they don’t play for the prize. They don’t care about the bag of money because they’re so well compensated.”

“But you care about the money.”

“I do,” he said. “I suppose I could just steal it from whoever won but I thought it would be more challenging to do it the old-fashioned way.”

“With actual effort?”