And when she managed it, she watched his hand drop back between his spread knees, much slower than she’d expected. As if he too was reluctant to break the connection.
No. She absolutely needed to stop ascribing sensations and emotions to him that weren’t present. Wishful thinking would be her downfall if she wasn’t careful.
Consciously clearing her throat, she opened her mouth, to say what she wasn’t exactly sure. Something,anythingto dilute the thick need prowling through her blood.
‘Truce?’ he bit out. From his demeanour, it seemed the last thing he wanted. And yet.
She started to shake her head because of his confusing expressions, but when his eyes narrowed, she hurried to speak.‘I’m not refusing the offer. I’m just curious. A truce from what exactly?’
The barest hint of a smile appeared before it was swallowed beneath his ferocity. ‘Perhaps it’s more of a reprieve than a truce. From continuously rubbing each other the wrong way?’
It was the last thing she expected. Probably the last thing a man with his power and position would offer. Why that sent warmth and apprehension through her, she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But she accepted that the release from always being on edge would make this process so much easier. So she nodded.
‘Say the words, Lotte. Just so we understand one another.’
‘Do you want to spit shake as well to seal the deal?’ she half joked, but when his eyes dropped to her hands braced on her thighs, her breath snagged yet again. The possibility of another touch, another stroke of his fingers over her skin made her breath stop completely.
‘Fine. Truce agreed. So what does this actually entail? Do we agree on a set time where we stay out of each other’s way?’
His eyes narrowed to silver slits. ‘Is that what you want?’
No. The vigour of the word almost hurt. She took a half beat so she wouldn’t appear too eager. Then forced a shrug. ‘Not necessarily. But I would like to not be cooped up in here every day until you deem it fit for me to stray three feet from the door without rugby tackling me into the snow.’
‘You make me sound like a cross between an ogre and a tyrant. Or what did you call me? The Hulk?’
Her lips curved into a smile independent of her will, and she was close enough to hear his sharp intake of breath as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
Slowly, the tension eroded her smile and his fleeting humour. She had time to miss that ephemeral light moment before he spoke.
‘Very well. A trip outside once a day if the weather permits.’
She nodded readily, half torn between relief and curious disappointment.
‘And just so we’re clear, that venture outside includes me.’
The swift disappearance of disappointment made it glaringly obvious that this response was what she’d hoped for. That for all her protestations she hadn’t truly wanted to be free of him. The revelation was at once stomach-hollowing and depressing.
It didn’t stop the next impossible thought that followed. She’d won a small but significant skirmish. Perhaps she could take on a bigger battle.
The hands on her thighs grew damp as anxiety pinched at her nerves. ‘I have a stipulation of my own then if we’re tossing them about.’
He stiffened. Her palms grew damper. She rubbed them over her leggings then stopped when his eyes dropped there.
Seriously, this conversation should be taking place with the width of the room between them just so his every move wouldn’t be so damn distracting. But her body refused to obey the suggestion.
‘Sí?’ he rasped tightly as if he suspected her motives.
In a way he was right. She was skirting the vault clearly labelled ‘keep out. Or else.’ ‘One question a day, during the walk. That’s my condition.’
His withdrawal was instant, his remote yet compelling expression an unscalable cliff face. Lotte held her breath and waited, fully expecting a cold dismissive refusal.
‘And these questions I assume aren’t going to be as benign as curiosity about my favourite colour?’ he mocked.
‘No, I already assumed it would be as black as your default mood?’ she tossed back.
That twitch returned and disappeared just as quickly. ‘You’re so brazen playing with fire,litla,’ he mused, almost abstractedly.Except his eyes maintained that dangerous warning to keep her wits about her.
She waved at the frozen wind howling against the window. ‘A little fire doesn’t hurt. At the very least, it’ll help keep me warm out there.’ And because she couldn’t suffer the suspense one more second, she continued, ‘Deal or no deal?’
