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“What secrets?” Sirenna whispers, trying to push herself away from me now that he’s gone. But my arm tightens around her shoulders, keeping her close like a massive shackle, unwilling to break the connection between our bodies.
“How much of our talk did you hear?”
She lets out a small, nervous laugh. “What do you expect me to say when you make it sound like you’d have to kill me if I heard too much?”
At least one thing’s for sure–she didn’t hear us talking about Joseph’s kidnapping. She wouldn’t be so composed now if she had. I doubt she’d manage such a soft, appeasing tone if she just realized I’ve been manipulating her all along.
Priest’s words echo in my head.
He’s fucking right.
No matter how deeply Sirenna and I connected, if she knew the truth about me she’d loathe me. She knows that I create drugs, but not how I test them. And if she knew exactly how I’ve been choosing my victims, what I did to them after I apprehended them...There’s no way she’d stay with me, even if she remembered what happened decades ago. Even if she remembered the teddy bear discarded on a cot.
I explore every feature of her face, reading her like a map. No, she couldn’t have overheard much of my discussion with Priest. He would have sniffed her presence much sooner. But even when I find the assurance I need, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I breathe, brushing my thumb over her lips. Ever since I first saw her, with Joseph, years ago, she’d been keeping a tense expression on her face, but oh how things changed since she moved in with me. Her lips are relaxed, settled into their natural sensual form, and her uptilted, intelligent eyes are full of something other than obstinacy. Some unnamed feeling lights up her cheeks, putting rosy stains on her skin.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to take a compliment from a man who...” Her voice cracks and she tries to look away, but I catch her chin between my fingers.
“A man who wants to fuck you until his name is all you can think about?”
“A man who just made breakfast for me,” she says, her face flushing. I follow her gaze to the stuff I prepared on the kitchen island.
“I was going to set up something nice in the living room, but then Priest dropped in.”
“He doesn’t like the idea of you and me growing close, does he?”
“Is that what we’re doing? Growing close?”
She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear with a nervous gesture. She’s flushed to the tips of her ears.
“I think anyone would argue that’s what’s been happening.” Her voice trembles, and it’s fucking delightful.
It’s a fucking challenge, letting Sirenna step away from me. I walk behind her as we take the food into the dining room, my mood darkening. The feelings she’s developing aren’t for the real me, while I’m losing my fucking head for her. My cock hardens in my pants just watching that silk robe cling to her asscheeks as she moves, and I realize for the umpteenth time that this attraction isn’t healthy. And it’s never going to lessen either.
There’s no end to all the ways I want to possess this woman.
But can she ever be mine if she doesn’t know the whole truth? She put up well with everything she’s learned so far, stoically took everything I had to say, and still came for me with an avalanche of lust, but what if that’s her threshold? Unlike me, she’s a good person. And no good person could be with a monster.
Setting the plates on the table, I hold the chair for her, and she rewards me with a loving smile. It’s fucking disarming. My muscles tense all over as I respond with a smirk. Her face turns red, and she brushes another strand behind her ear as I sit down.
“I thought people were supposed to become more comfortable around each other when they get closer,” I say, sounding way more controlled than I feel.
“It’s just...” She clears her throat. “I don’t know where I stand with you, honestly.”
Pouring her some coffee, I watch her pick up the cutlery and start on her scrambled eggs without lifting her eyes to me.
“I mean, what are we to each other? Am I your prize? Am I your prey? Your prisoner?”
“I suppose the answer to that depends on what I am to you. Am I your captor? Am I your protector? Your partner in crime? What am I to you, wild flame?”
She pops a bit of food into her mouth, resting her wrists with the cutlery on the table.
“You’re not what you were at the start, that’s for sure,” she says. “It’s obvious there’s a connection between us that neither of us understands. We must have met before, but–” she shakes her head, “try as I may, I can’t remember.”
Of course she can’t.
“Fact is, you’re more to me than all that,” she admits, and my heart does a fucking backflip in my chest. “After that night when you told me...” her voice fades. I grip her hand over the table.
