I try to tame my heart’s frantic beat. My brain feels like its short-circuiting.
Besides my mom, no one has ever given me spontaneous gifts before.
I’m close to whipping off my towel and jumping him, but he’s acting antsy and glancing at the door like he wants to bolt. My burgeoning self-confidence won’t survive a rejection, so instead of tackling him, I rise up on my toes and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “That was very sweet of you.”
He goes statue-still. Then, after mumbling, “you’re welcome,” he tells me he has to be somewhere and leaves.
His hasty retreat steals a little of my joy. Instead of allowing my mind to run wild with conjecture, I choose to focus on the positive.
I might still be a prisoner, but now I’m a prisoner with art supplies. And cupcakes.
Choosing one with yellow frosting labeledchocolate chip banana, I sink my teeth in and moan.
So. Good. After one more bite, I flip open the sketchbook and begin to draw.
Every day for the next two weeks, Rory stops by in the evening with cupcakes, always from a new location. At my insistence, he brings a knife so I can cut them in half and share.
We critique each one and rank them. Once we finish, Rory and I talk. I find stories and anecdotes to share—mostly involving my mother, though some involve Mae too—and he returns the favor by feeding me tidbits about his own life. Hetalks a lot about his three best friends and tells me about some of their various exploits. I learn that Cian was a ladies man before his engagement, Darren has an alarming affinity for fire and explosives, and Finn grew darker after his first wife’s murder.
Speaking of Finn…he visited at one point, folded his arms, and told me to prove I was Libertas. I was more than happy to wipe the suspicion off his glowering face by whipping up a quick ode toThe Emperor’s New Clothes. Was it my fault if the emperor resembled Finn?
For a second, I worried I went too far, so I was surprised when his lips twitched before he stalked out.
The day I tell Rory the story about how Leo once locked me in a closet overnight when I was five—using a fake name, of course—a thundercloud descends on his face. After threatening to disembowel the culprit, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me for the first time since we hooked up. Before things can get too heated, he groans and leaves again.
He kisses me again every day after that, but to my growing dismay, he continues to pull away as soon as our embrace starts to get out of control.
By the end of the second week, I’m not sure what’s holding him back. Only that my hormones are raging out of control.
Rejection be damned. If I want this physical relationship to progress any further, it’s clear that I need to take matters into my own hands.
That evening, I shower shortly before he arrives. When he knocks and enters, I’m once again only wearing a towel.
His eyes linger on the naked skin above the fabric. They fixate on my fingers as I fidget with the tucked in edge.
I draw in a deep breath for courage. He watches the rise and fall of my chest like a starving man.
Before I get a chance to proposition him, he drags his teeth over his lower lip. “I had a bad day today.”
At his husky tone, goosebumps erupt over my skin. “What’s wrong?” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off his gorgeous face.
His eyes hood. “I didn’t get to spend it with you.”
My heart shoots off a launch pad. I’mexplodinginside.
This is so happening.
“Rory…” I lick my lips. “Turn off the security cameras in here.”
Chapter 21
Kiara
Rory’s eyes fly to mine as if I’ve just said something crucial.
I settle my hand on the hem of my towel. “I know you know how.”
I still don’t know what the Kings plan to do with me.
