I racked my brain for something gentle to say, maybe even apologize even if Anna had wanted what we’d done, had practically seduced me. Still, I felt like I had done something wrong.
I cleared my throat, making my voice as gentle as I was capable of, which still wasn’t much. Being gentle wasn’t my strong suit. “We should talk.”
Anna shoved past me. “I’m not in the mood to talk. You gave me what I wanted, now I want sleep.”
She breezed away and into her room before I had the chance to say another word, then she closed the door audibly.
I stayed where I was for a while. Part of me wanted to follow her, but what was I supposed to say?
And maybe it was better if I didn’t seek her out now because I was angry too. Angry because she’d pretended to be something she wasn’t. If I’d known she hadn’t done the deed with Maurice, I may have been able to hold on to my meager control.
Fuck, who was I kidding? I would have given in eventually.
I decided to wait until the morning to confront Anna again. We both needed time to clear our heads.
Of course, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. All I could think about was Anna lying in her bed and possibly crying. I wanted to protect her. Over the years my duty had become a deep urge. I wanted to keep her safe, even if she managed to make me want to kill her half the time.
I must have dozed off when I heard shuffling in the corridor. My eyes darted to the door, which opened a second later. Anna’s slender form appeared in the doorway. She leaned against it, regarding me. The light from the street allowed me to make out slightly more than outlines.
“I can’t sleep,” she said. Her voice was calm and quiet.
I sat up, the covers bunching at my waist. “I can’t sleep either.” Silence settled between us. “Do you want to talk?”
Anna nodded and came in. She perched on the bed, and I lifted my covers, not even thinking about it. She looked like she needed to be consoled and I wanted to be the one to do it. I couldn’t fight it. I wanted to have her close even if I was pissed.
The briefest smile flitted across Anna’s face, not her usual provocative or challenging smile, it was a small sweet smile, one that made my pulse speed up in a way it had never done because of a woman before. She crept under the covers and sat beside me with her back against the headboard. Then she looked at me. She didn’t say anything, only looked at me. I almost leaned forward and kissed her again. Having her in my bed was bound to lead to more unfortunate events.
“You should have told me the truth and not pretended to be experienced.”
“Who says I’m not experienced?” she asked haughtily.
I turned on the lamp on the nightstand, wanting to see the expression on her face. “Cut the games, Anna. There was blood on my fingers.”
Her gaze moved away and the hint of a blush traveled up her throat. Anna rarely avoided eye contact. She always held my gaze no matter how furious I was. I admired that about her. She was tough and clever, cunning even, which had made me forget that she used to be a sensitive girl. She’d learned to hide that side of her over the years. I wasn’t quite innocent about that development.
She shrugged as if it was irrelevant. “I’ve never been with Clifford, or Maurice, or anyone. What happened between us last night was the most I’ve ever done. I’ve always wanted it to be you who kissed me, touched me…” She shrugged again. “And I got what I wanted.”
I became very still.
“Now you know,” she said.
“Damn it, Anna,” I growled, focusing on my anger. Anna’s admittance wreaked havoc with my insides. “You should have told me sooner.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes things.”
“It doesn’t. Don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m not. I just want some fun, and I know sleeping with you will be fun.”
“It’s a big deal. And we didn’t sleep with each other and we won’t.”
Fuck, but I wanted to. I wanted to forget my duties and Anna’s, and only listen to my body. And my heart.
“What about fucking? That’s what you’ve called it until now.”
“If I take your virginity, I’m not doing it by fucking you. Every time that follows after will be fucking.”
Did I really just suggest I pop her cherry? I should ask Anna to leave my bed and try to return to an appropriate polite distance. But when had we last managed polite distance?
“There’ll be more than one time?” Anna asked, angling her body toward me. She smelled of Yasmine and… me. This realization sealed my fate. Possessiveness and desire flooded me.