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“I’m intrigued,” he said.
Regardless of the monotone of his voice, there was heat pouring off his body. He didn’t move, holding my gaze. My fingers traced around the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes as he deeply breathed in.
“You said it was dangerous,” I whispered. “A Judge and a siren.”
He nodded, leaning his head against mine. “If danger bothered me, I wouldn’t be who I am.”
He pulled back a little, his eyes glancing at my lips once more before he looked away.
“Did you really only kiss me to break the betrothal?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me. “Why else would I kiss you?”
I leaned in to get his attention. “If all you wanted to do was break off the engagement, you could have just said that Henrik kissed me. You witnessed that for yourself.”
He then finally turned his head at me, looking at my lips once more. His fingers came to my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my lips.
“Yes,” he replied, “but I hate thinking about that.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer right away, still touching the curves of my face with his fingertips. He suddenly pulled back, standing straight.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
I couldn’t hold back my smile as he turned pink. I didn’t have to read his eyes to know his feelings.
“Admit it,” I said. “You like me, Jacques De Villiers.”
He snapped his head at me in annoyance, his lips then pulling back into their usual smugness.
“There it is again,” he said.
“What?”
“Your aura,” he said. “It’s rose.”
I hunched my shoulders up, suddenly feeling naked. “You can see my aura? It has a color?”
He put one hand on each side of me on the dresser and leaned in closer.
“Rose is the color of infatuation,” he said. “It was that color the night you met me in the hot springs. It was that color the first night we met, when you thought I was your betrothed.”
He stared into my eyes, but I couldn’t hold his gaze. I felt sheepish, as if I had been caught in a crime. But I hadn’t, had I? I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I folded my arms coyly. “Honestly, you’d be lucky to be my betrothed.”
He leaned in closer, his eyes dropping to my neck before coming back to my face.
“I don’t need luck,” he whispered. “Not when it’s obvious how much you’re attracted to me.”
He met his lips to mine again, and before I could even think, my hands were in his hair pulling him closer. The heat of his fingers came to my back, gently pushing me closer to him as he kissed me over and over again.
Yes, we barely knew one another, but there was an electricity to him that pulled me in. It did when we first met, and it had every time we were together since. Perhaps it was the same for him.
I broke the kiss, pulling back and looking over my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
