A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses 1)

“You may be used to girls throwing themselves at you, but I’m not them, and I never will be.” My words are filled with venom, but he doesn’t seem perturbed at my retort. The smile that curls his lips only seems to brighten and the dimples that deepen in either cheek do nothing to stop the flurry of hummingbirds in my stomach.

It’s stupid, really. I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. And I certainly shouldn’t be feeling like a teenage girl with a crush, but Damien Thorne is just that—something my young heart would love to learn more about. He’s handsome, sexy, and he has a voice that could melt ice cream. Even though he’s aloof most times, there’s a seductiveness to him that I’m drawn to.

“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice, Nesrin?” he asks, as he tugs my lock of hair once more. The darkness of the impending storm gathering outside seems to encroach on us, filling the bright and sunny greenhouse with shadows.

I meet those ice-blue eyes in an attempt to seem unperturbed by his nearness. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Let me make this clear, I’m not going to lie to you to protect those delicate emotions of yours, Nesrin.” His words still me. What could he throw at me verbally to hurt me?

“You don’t need to protect me from anything, Damien.” I push by him, wanting to put some distance between us, but he’s fast. His hand shoots out to grab my wrist, spinning me around, until I’m flush with him, and his other arm wraps around my waist.

“Even from myself?” he challenges, with a glint of mischief that shines in his eyes. His dark brow raised, as those dimples threaten to have me falling deeper under his spell. “Because I’m the most dangerous one there is, Nesrin. And you have no way of fighting me off.”

My mouth falls open, but no words come out. I want to tell him I hate him, to push him away, maybe even to knee him in the groin, but my body is rigid with shock and need swirling together.

He leans in closer, so close, in fact, I can feel the heat of his breath feathering over my cheek. My heart skids to a halt, then beats wildly against my ribs, when I feel the softness of his lips on the heated skin of my jaw.

His mouth brushes along my ear, leaving white-hot electric sparks in its wake. Then he whispers, “But something tells me you like that. You like the danger, the passion, the mystery. Which means, if I slipped my hand between those pristine, caramel thighs of yours, I’d find your panties soaked. Just for me.”

Anger and humiliation rage inside me. A battle of hate and lust rages within, just like the strike of lightning that shutters outside—sparking the darkened sky with a streak of warning—and the silence is shattered, causing me to yelp in shock.

My heart is now in my throat, thick and ominous. I attempt to swallow, trying to force myself to shove Damien away, but I don’t have to because, just as the white spark outside disappears within seconds, he moves away from me.

We stand in silence, our gazes locked, and I have nothing to say to him. My body is trembling from our interaction, and I know he can see it. Damien knows he has an effect on me, and he uses it to his advantage.

With a nod, he turns to leave. I watch his form retreating toward the door, but before he steps out, he twists his head, offering me only his profile to admire. His eyes burn with blue flames that dance with intent.

“I wanted to see you.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What?” I croak.

“You asked me what I was doing here,” he tells me. “It was because I wanted to see you.” His admission hangs between us, for a second, before he spins on his shiny heel and leaves me in the greenhouse, still trembling.

When I sit down at the table beside Cassian, he leans over and whispers, “Don’t let Damien get to you. He’s an asshole, most times, even to us, but he cares.”

I don’t know why my heart flip flops at his words. It’s wrong to think about Damien in that way, but when he settles in at the head of the table, and my eyes find his, I know I’ll never see him in a familial way.

“So, tell us more about you,” Finn says, when he seats himself opposite me. “Any hobbies? Or favorite things to do?”

“I’m pretty much a homebody,” I shrug. “I love being on my own, spending time with my books. Not really a party animal.”

“That’s unfortunate because we’re having a party this weekend to welcome our new little sister to the family and the town.” Finn grins at me, while he spears a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth. “She’s our guest of honor.”