Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

He slapped the paper he was reading down on his desk and walked toward me. “You know the answer to that already.”

“Yes, I do. Which is why I can’t figure out why you’re acting this way.”

“What way is that?” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the front of his desk. A challenge.

In short, I was coming to realize that being with Roman was a game, and to win, I’d have to play by the rules, while daring the other person to break them.

I took a step closer, this time observing how his gaze skated from my heels to my shoulders, pausing at all the good parts in between. Maybe the governor struggled the same way I did.

Maybe he wasn’t completely immune to me either. We were after all, a couple.

“You’re being cold,” I said, taking another step. “I don’t like it. It makes me question why I’d be in a relationship with someone who treats me this way.”

“I treat you well,” he said in a low, deadly tone, clearly not liking where I was going with this.

He made the rules. No talking about the arrangement. Fine. Then I’d appeal to him as his significant other.

“Sometimes,” I nodded. “But sometimes you don’t.” I shrugged a little and dropped my voice a single octave. “Other times you treat me very well.” I looked up from beneath my lashes, trying that flirty eye thing I’d seen Hazel use on a man at a bar once. “I like that Roman.” Step. “The one who is kind, makes me laugh, makes me…”

“Makes you run away,” he cut in, obviously more upset about the other night than I had realized.

“I didn’t know how to handle the other night,” I admitted. “I just needed some space to regroup. But I don’t regret being with you.”

His eyes darkened, the nearby fire lighting them up like the eyes of some wicked, sexy demon from the underworld. “Did I scare you?”

I shook my head. “The only thing that scares me is how you make me feel.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Jean said, walking through the door. “I have most of the travel arrangements amended to accommodate Miss Underwood, but I wanted to know if you had solidified your arrangements for staying at your parents’ estate next month when you travel upstate.”

“No.” His tone made the woman jump a bit. “We will not be staying there.”

“Okay. And what sample size from the wardrobe should I have the assistant bring up for Miss Underwood?” Jean asked, as if I weren’t standing right beside her.

Roman fired off my size, almost down to exact measurements, and I stared, astounded. The woman scribbled something down again, then hurried out, obviously picking up on Roman’s mood and shutting the door behind her.

“You have a wardrobe standing by?”

“Yes, it was put together over the weekend. Various items.” He lifted his shoulders slightly, like this was totally normal.

“How do you know what size I am?”

“I wasn’t sure until I saw the tag on your skirt the other night.” The rough edge of his voice made shivers slice down my spine. “And I still have your panties.”

My mind slowed in shock.

“Now, you were telling me how I make you feel?” he said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. No matter how hard I tried, he always seemed to be one step ahead, and nothing, nothing, seemed to unnerve him. Meanwhile he had my panties, God knows where, and was discussing me like some farm animal, dressing me and putting me on show. And all while making my body smolder like I was having withdrawals from his touch. I wanted to scream at him. Shake him. Devour him. My mind and body were on the brink of operating on pure instinct.

“Not getting shy on me now, are you, Amy?”

“I thought that was a quality you liked in me.”

“No. I said I liked your innocence.”

“That doesn’t really apply anymore, does it?”

He frowned. “I disagree. I’m more convinced than ever.”