She yanked her eyes back to mine and then scurried off the bed and backed away from me slowly like the prey she was.
I stalked forward, comfortable as the predator. “You were saying, lass?”
Her chin rose, and that sparkle was back in her eyes. “You left me for four days. No phone call. No text. Not even a warning. I woke up, and you were gone!” She jabbed me in the chest with her finger, then snatched her hand back. “Holy mother of tattoos,” she whispered.
Her touch felt like a branding iron. “That’s it? You broke into my bedroom and put yourself at risk just to yell at me that I didn’t say goodbye?”
“I didn’t break in. I put my hand on the lock, and it opened.” Her gaze swept over my chest and abs, following the lines of tattoos that covered every inch of my skin to the wrist and neck.
The lock opened for her…because she was my mate. Shit. It was like the bond didn’t care that we didn’t want it. It was growing stronger, anyway.
“And you didn’t say goodbye! I had to hear from Ransom where you went!” She bumped into the dresser and skipped sideways to continue her retreat.
Guess she hadn’t realized yet that there wasn’t anywhere in this room I couldn’t reach her. Or on this Earth for that matter.
“You were sleeping when I left.” Another step.
“So?” Her back hit the wall.
“So get up earlier next time.” I shrugged.
Her features tightened, and she murdered me with a glare as her neck craned to keep eye contact. “Ransom said you’d say that, too.”
A flash of something hot and ugly stabbed deep into my stomach, curdling with a vicious twist. “Exactly how much time have you spent with Ransom, my little Valor?”
Ransom was arguably known as the most handsome of the Order. He was the charmer, the easy flirt, the one the debutantes chased after with silly little sighs and giggles because one look my direction put them back behind their mother’s skirts. It was a distinction I’d always been thankful for, since young, experienced females were never my thing.
“Ransom?” She balked. “I don’t know. He’s around—” Her eyes popped wide. “You’re jealous.”
“Did you spend your nights with Ransom while I was away, seeing to the safety of my species?” I slapped my palm to the wall beside her head and leaned in. Fuck, she smelled divine.
We were alone.
The bed was less than fifteen feet away.
My body ached for her.
She was mine.
You don’t want this! Even the mental reminder wasn’t enough.
Her breath caught, but she held my stare. Nothing shy or demure about this one. She wasn’t some simpering aristocrat, seeking a mate, or some lust-driven feeder looking for a quick fuck. This woman was all fire and steel—she’d been made for me.
“He’s not my type,” she said with a shrug, but her voice had gone breathless. “I’ve never been attracted to the pretty boys.”
“Hmmm.” I took in every line of her face, memorizing even the smallest details in the delicate arch of her brows, her high cheekbones, the darker rim of green at the outer edge of her iris, and the pert, lush mouth.
“But at least he was nice to me while you were gone,” she whispered. “And you were gone a long time.”
“I was gone four nights, lass.” Four endless nights, and I’d felt her absence every second of them.
“They were a long four nights!” She sucked in a breath and then shook her head and muttered, “Fuck it,” under her breath. “I don’t like this, Lachlan. I don’t like the way I feel tethered to you. And I don’t like the way my body gets all wonky when you walk into the room. And I definitely don’t like that I was such a wench to that girl the night of the ball—”
“Female,” I corrected her softly.
“Whatever! I hate that I get jealous when I think of your mouth on someone else’s neck because how fucking irrational is that? You’re a vampire! Of course, you’re going to bite people!”
Her body heated, and my vision flickered to thermals, registering the change.
“Valor…” God, just the thought of sinking my fangs into the creamy, silken skin of her neck had my cock ready to punch through the towel. I bet she tasted exactly how she smelled—light and citrusy with a heady sweetness.
“And I hate how good you look without a shirt on, because that’s just…” She motioned toward my body, and I leaned in just enough that her fingers grazed over my skin. “Oh, God,” she whimpered. “So good.” Her eyes jumped back up to mine.
Her scent flared, changing subtly, and I growled. She wanted me.
“And I loathe the way other women look at you when I know I don’t have the right. But I keep wearing my hair up when we eat dinner just so they all see the mark.” She shook her head. “And I hate. Hate. Hate. The way my chest fucking hurt while you were gone. It was like I was being drawn and quartered…like—”