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There’s utter silence in the room.
A vein throbs at Edward’s temple.
Mira gulps. "At least, the coffee was decaf."
Summer titters, then turns it into a cough. Someone else—JJ by the sounds of it— chuckles, then manages to stifle it.
Mira’s eyes grow bigger. She hunches her shoulders. "You’re not saying anything. Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you pissed-off? Oh god, you’re pissed-off. I'm sorry, you make me nervous, can you tell? Haha, I also like to answer my own questions when the person I’m talking to stays quiet. As long as you don’t insist I go to confession and own up my sins to the priest. Oops!"
I wince.
Edward’s shoulders bunch.
Gio trembles at my side, trying not to laugh. I don't dare look at her.
A horrified look comes over Mira’s face. "I didn’t mean to talk about your past. I was warned not to. Not that I’m a gossip—okay, maybe a little.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger. “And only because gossip is good for you. It helps to de-stress. You, on the other hand, look like you could use some de-stressing. I'll bet you keep it all locked up inside. Which makes you a prime candidate for a coronary. Not that it's any of my business. Oh my god." She closes her eyes. "I’ve done it now, haven’t I?"
Edward stares at her with an expression veering between fascination, disgust and anger.
"Okay, that’s it. I will not speak anymore. I’ll wipe you down, and you can be on your way." She leans forward, brushing her scarf over his crotch again and again, and I'll be honest, at this point, even I'm finding it hard to maintain my signature Stone face.
"You done?" Edward asks through gritted teeth.
"It’s not getting any better, is it?" she asks in a small voice. "No, it’s not. Am I making it worse? Of course, I am." She slowly tips up her chin and meets his gaze. "Can I make it up to you?"
He sets his jaw and looks ready to refuse her, then a cunning look comes into his eyes. In a voice I have to strain to hear, he says to her, "How are you at obeying orders?"
To find out what happens next, read Edward and Mira’s marriage of convenience, forced proximity, one-bed here
Read an excerpt
Mira
"Orders?" I blink slowly. "What kind of orders?"
Not the kind you read in your smutty books. Definitely can’t be those kind of orders.
The skin around his eyes tightens. "What are smutty books?" he rumbles. My never-endings spark. Oh my god, that caramel-velvet voice of his brushes up against my skin, and every cell in my body seems to come alive. Also, no, no, no, did I say the S-word aloud?
"I meant, slutty books." I cover my face with my hands. "I said that aloud, as well, didn’t I?"
I peek through the gaps in my fingers in time to see him nod slowly. He doesn’t say a word, though. He merely glares at me like I’m a puzzle to solve, or maybe, an annoyance, or an irritant, or a pest he’d prefer to swat away.
The silence stretches. Our gazes catch. The air between us crackles with awareness. The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise. A heavy feeling pushes down on my chest. I swallow, and my throat feels like it’s lined with sharp glass.What’s happening to me?
"Do you always say what comes into your mind?" he asks in a voice that’s detached but also curious, in the way a scientist might be while observing an animal in the wild.
I frown. "Of course not." I wave a hand in the air, striving for casual. "Only when I’m nervous. Not that I’m nervous now. And do you make me nervous? Of course not."
"Also a liar." He drags his thumb under his lower lip, and my gaze is drawn to his mouth. Gorgeous mouth. Hard mouth. A mean upper lip that hints at the his authoritarian nature. That puffy lower lip that might signify his pursuit of pleasure. A hedonist. A savage. A fiend. He’s all of them. Does that make him a heartless monster? Or a merciless lover? One who seeks gratification, but not in an instant way. This man would wait months…years, if needed. This man would pursue what he wants with a singular focus. And oh, to be at the receiving end of that intensity.
What I'm facing now is a tiny insight into how it would be if he were to get fixated on me. I shake my head. Fixated? I don’t want that. Not at all. I don’t know this man. All I know is the passing reference to him within the circle of my girlfriends, whose husbands he's a friend of. I’ve never seen him with a woman, though.
"I’ve never seen you with a woman." What the—! "Did I say that out loud?” I ask weakly.
His features harden until they could be carved from a diamond-hard material, whatever that's called.
"Oh, shit," Gio says in a soft voice from behind me.
