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I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my toe. I’d somehow lost my intimidating presence. And he was right, I wasn’t going to physically harm him. Though the idea was tempting.
So tempting.
What was worse, I couldn’t be the one to move my things. That would only show retreat and cowardice. He had to be the one to go.
Except I didn’t know how to convince him to do that.
Indigo finished his preparations and stood again, dusting his hands off on his hips as he loomed way too close for my comfort. He smelled like clean man, warm musk, and lickable—
Jesus, it just wasn’t right that he had to stand so close.
“What’re you so scared of?” he asked in a calm, curious voice that held no hint of any condescending banter that might piss me off. “You know I won’t hurt you. And I remember the rule. No touching, so—”
“The rule was for you to sleep on the other side of the—”
“I feel your anxiety, okay,” he broke in softly, his gaze drilling into mine. “And I get that this is uncomfortable for you. But I promise I won’t bother you. Not in that way.” He waved his manacled hands in a circle, motioning toward my lap area. “I can read your signs. You’re not ready for all that yet. So you’re safe. Hell, you’ll be safer with me here than on the other side of the camp.”
A droplet of disappointment pouted inside me over h
is claim that he wouldn’t make any advances. I kind of liked his wicked advances. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, and thus I was therefore obligated to shut them down flat. Because he could never know I secretly craved them.
To his face, though, I lifted my eyebrows and kept my arms crossed. “If you’re not lying about leaving me alone, then why does it matter where you sleep?”
The devil grinned his stupid sexy grin. “Because I like lying beside you. And my mark lets me sleep better the closer you are. I just want a good night’s rest. That’s all.”
Okay, that melted a bit of my resistance. But come on…
My mere presence soothed him?
Who could stand firm against shit like that?
Me. That’s who, I told myself. I was better than this. I could resist his cocky, yet adorable grin, his sparkling eyes with the long lashes still damp from his bath, where he’d probably stroked himself while thinking of me. Maybe he’d even groaned my name while bringing himself to orgasm.
He released a sudden breath and shook his head as if trying to clear it while he took a step back.
I flushed, hoping he hadn’t felt that surge of excess heat that had just ricocheted through me. Except I knew he had.
Damn.
“And just think,” he added, recovering immediately to flash me a smile. “It would be torture for me to remain close enough to you that I could reach out and touch you but not actually be allowed to touch you. And you like it when I’m miserable, right?”
Well…
When he put it that way, the idea of torturing him did sound appealing.
I frowned. “Just don’t talk to me.”
He grinned. Way too triumphantly. And the twinkle in his eyes told me he’d be talking to me a lot.
Fuck. What had I just done?
Plopping down on his bedroll, he lay back, crossed his legs at the ankles, and then interwove his fingers together before placing his bound hands behind his head and sighing blissfully up at the sky. “Damn, it is such a nice night, isn’t it? Ideal temperature, just the slightest hint of a breeze to keep the air from being stale, and laced with the hint of pine. Did you see that sunset, too? Fucking beautiful.”
“You’re an ass,” I mumbled, plopping heavily onto my own blankets with a petulant sniff. There went my plans of getting in an early night’s sleep.
“An ass?” He gave a low whistle. “For commenting on the weather? Wow. Oh well. Everyone’s a critic, I guess.”
I turned onto my side, facing away from him and punched at the hard saddle under my head that was seconding as my pillow. But I could still feel him back there. His warmth, his smell, his very presence was a pungent reminder that I had a mate.
