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But what if she were right? What if Kenz never did fall for me?
I shook my head. I couldn’t think like that. I’d been born with nothing, not even with my real name, raised by a family who hadn’t birthed me, who didn’t want me, and forced to watch the place I belonged get along just fine without me.
I’d gotten where I was by sheer determination, by never giving up, by never allowing anything to get the best of me.
So the idea that I might fail here, that I might not obtain the one thing I really wanted—my soulmate—wasn’t possible. It wasn’t acceptable. I could not even entertain such an idea.
So I shoved it away like a spider that scurried beneath the couch—so long as I couldn’t see it, I didn’t have to acknowledge or think about it.
“I will win her,” I said, infusing as much confidence into the words as possible. I would because I had to, because no other ending was acceptable.
“And if you don’t? If this doesn’t work? Will you return home and take your spot?”
I nodded. “Yes, I will.”
Such a promise was fine because it would not happen.
I would ensure it. Not even Kenz could keep me from what I wanted.
Chapter Three
Kenz
The sight of Vance without his gloves gave me pause when I walked into his room. Even though I knew about his hand, he still hid it from me.
Not just me, of course. He hid from everyone. He wore those gloves and the prosthetic with the same fervor as a girl at the beach in a bikini, as though his modesty demanded it.
Though I knew the truth. It wasn’t modesty—it ran so much deeper.
So when I strolled into his room without knocking—I didn’t want him to ignore me—and found him with a towel wrapped around his waist and neither his gloves nor his prosthetic on, I went still.
Vance turned toward me, his hand frozen midair, his other on the place where the towel folded over to keep it up. He swallowed hard, then offered me a strained smile. “Were you hoping for a peepshow, Kenz?”
The words were playful, but his tone let me know the truth. It screamed his unease, and the flicker of his blue eyes toward his dresser, where the prosthetic and gloves sat, waiting, said he wanted to retreat, to hide, to wipe away what I’d seen.
If we were playing this game, I could go along with it. “Well, a girl has to do what she’s got to do,” I answered. “It isn’t like you’ve stripped for me any other time.”
“Seems to me you’ve seen more of me than anyone else,” he whispered.
And I knew damn well he didn’t mean his body. Countless women had seen that, had touched him, had felt every inch of his body all save for his hand, for the wound there that even five years couldn’t heal.
I knew the jealousy I felt was petty and pointless, but I couldn’t shake it. Every interview I’d seen, every magazine article, every tabloid cover where Vance had stood there with some beautiful model on his arm came back to me.
Even though that bred insecurity inside me, I couldn’t pull back, couldn’t look away. His skin was so pale, and it made the blue of his eyes stand out. The black towel wrapped around him made his skin seem even brighter, and my fingers itched to pull at the waist of it, to tug where the fabric was tucked to keep it up.
“It’s amazing that a girl as innocent as you could have a look that lewd on your face,” Vance said, his right hand lowering as though he’d forgotten about it for a moment. “Of course, given what I heard from Hayden, Tor and Char, I’m not sure innocent is a word I can use for you anymore, can I?”
My cheeks burned, not only at the reminder of what we had done, but the idea that they’d all talked about it, that he knew.
I opened my mouth to explain myself—though what I’d say I didn’t know. How did a person admit that they’d donethosethings with other men without making themselves sound like some sort of whore?
Hetsk’dsoftly, then walked up to me. Fingers touched my chin, forcing me to look up and into those beautiful blue eyes of his—using his left hand, of course. “You need to work on your poker face. Everything you think gets screamed out through your expression. You think I’m mad about that? I’m a little annoyed I got left out, but that’s it.”
“How can you not be mad? Most men—”
“I’m not most men. Seems neither are the others, because yeah, we talked about it. Turns out I don’t mind you playing with them even a bit, not so long as you keep looking at me withthislook.” He leaned down, but he bypassed my lips to press a kiss to my neck.
At least, that’s what I thought it was at first. A sharp sting as he sucked had me arching against his bare form, and I couldn’t believe it when even that excited me. He released me with a noisy pop, then dragged his tongue over the sore spot.
