The Redemption (Filthy Rich Americans 4) - Page 24

It was that, despite all of it, I foolishly wanted him anyway.

His deep voice was empty. “I’ll walk you out.”

I wished desperately I could have stayed put. What would have happened if I had? Was it crazy to think he was having similar thoughts to mine, and he’d stepped closer because he wanted to be near?

We marched wordlessly through the house toward the entryway, and as Macalister fished my jacket out of the closet, a soft meow drew my attention into the front sitting room. It was dark out, and the wood paneled room was cave-like, but I made out the black coil of fur on one of the couch cushions. My feet carried me toward it.

Lucifer stretched one paw and then the other as I sat beside him and scratched behind his ears. Who was lonelier in this house and more starved for attention . . . the cat, or the backlit man holding my coat in the arched doorway, watching me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve?

Macalister tossed my coat onto a side chair and moved swiftly toward the couch, only to shoo away the cat with an irked look. Lucifer hopped down with a protesting meow and scurried away, and I threw an accusing look upward.

“Rude.”

“I agree,” Macalister answered. “This is a priceless antique couch, and he knows he’s not supposed to be on it.”

It had been lingering in the back of my mind, but his bossy gesture finally broke it free. “You have to kiss her at the end of the night.”

He was too controlled to let his entire body jolt with shock. Only the snap of his shoulders gave away his surprise. “Excuse me?”

I swallowed hard, even though my mouth had gone dry. “Your dinner with Evangeline. People might think it’s business or you’re just friends. You need to kiss her so there isn’t any doubt.”

Macalister Hale wasn’t known for public displays of affection. In fact, in all the years they’d been married, had I ever seen him kiss his wife? I couldn’t recall even a picture. Maybe he didn’t know how.

God, please don’t let that be true.

He stared at me now, his eyes glittering in the dark with an unclear emotion. Displeasure? He did not like being told what to do.

My body was tight with apprehension, and I treaded carefully. “I prepared her already, so she knows it’s coming.”

His tone was ice. “Did you?”

“She’s nervous. She hasn’t kissed anyone since her husband, but I told her it would be okay. I mean, I assume it’s been awhile for you, but you probably haven’t forgotten.” The weight of his stare was crushing, and I could barely meet his eyes.

“No.” He said it like he was wielding a scalpel and cutting me slowly piece by piece. “I have not forgotten.”

As he gathered strength, all my power seemed to slide his direction and my voice became a ghost. “How will you do it?”

“Kiss her?” When I nodded, the cold draft of him flipped on its side and turned to heat. The corner of his sexy mouth lifted in a sinister smile. “I’m not sure yet. The way I do it depends on the woman. How I kiss her will be entirely different, for example, than the way I would kiss you.”

I pulled all the air I could find into my lungs in an audible sweep, and my reaction was unmistakable. Victory claimed him and pushed into his expression, but he was controlled as he sat beside me on the couch.

It was the opposite for me as my insides began to fly apart. He was so close, the side of one of his powerful legs pressed against me, and I had to fight the couch to keep from falling into him.

Excited panic gripped me. “What are you doing?”

Shadows played across his face, highlighting his authoritarian look. “Demonstrating.”

I turned into a statue as he dragged his cold fingertips across my cheek and threaded his hand into my hair. Static played in my ears and hummed through my body. I was imagining this. There was no other explanation. Like I did with shooting, I’d visualized this moment so many times I’d made it real.

My lips parted, although I wasn’t sure if it was to gasp, or say something, or maybe I’d done it subconsciously to welcome his kiss. Or perhaps I was under his power now, and he’d silently commanded it. My eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in and the hand at the back of my head prevented my escape.

His fingers had been cold, but his mouth was hot when it pressed to mine.

And that was all the kiss was at first, just the gentle meeting of our mouths.

But my heart pounded, blood roared through my system, and my breathing went so shallow, I grew lightheaded. Macalister’s kiss was like being connected to a power source. The electricity of him raced along my nerve ends and lit me up.

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