It was dark, and even though it was rare there wasn’t some form of activity happening in the castle, everything was quiet in her wing. She could only hope that there wasn’t anyone loitering in the halls.
She rounded the corner and hit a hot, solid barrier. A hand over her mouth cut off her sharp shriek, strong arms turning her sharply, putting her back to the wall. Her eyes clashed with Mak’s, dark and glittering in the dim hall. She breathed in deeply, her breasts brushing against his hard chest.
Anger, excitement, desire, swirled around inside her. She tried to grab onto anger and hold it steady, keep it at the forefront.
She narrowed her eyes and he lowered his hand.
“I didn’t want you waking the whole castle,” he said, his expression deadly.
“So, you accosted me?” She refused to be intimidated. Refused to let him hear the tremor in her voice. A tremor caused by his nearness, and not so much the scare she’d just had.
“You were sneaking out.”
“How did you know?” she asked, fully aware that she sounded petulant and childish and not really caring at all.
“I have an alarm on your door. Silent, of course.” One side of his mouth lifted into a grim sort of self-satisfied smile. “Surprise.”
“Bastard.”
He released his hold on her. “It’s entirely possible. Likely, in fact.”
“I didn’t mean in the literal sense,” she said, brushing her hand over her arm, where his hand had burned her through the fabric of her jacket. “Of having unmarried parents, I mean. I meant it to mean more that you’re a jerk.”
He shrugged. “Either way, you’re probably correct. Where were you going?”
“To a drink-fuelled party,” she said tightly.
His lips curved into what might have been a smile. “I don’t even almost believe that. Where were you going?”
She looked away from him. “I don’t know. Somewhere.”
“In the middle of the night. By yourself.” His tone was even, but hard. The control injected into each word more unsettling than if he’d been shouting. “You might not be under any current threat, but it seems as though you want to tempt someone to try something.”
“No. That’s not it. I …”
“What is it, Eva? You’re stubborn for the sake of it?”
“Hardly. I wanted to go out. I’m an adult, it seems like I ought to have the freedom to—”
“Oh yes, you think you’re an adult because you’ve reached a certain age, and yet you don’t show that you’re capable of making intelligent decisions.”
“I see, were you required to pass some sort of test demonstrating competence before you made a decision in your adult life?”
He moved closer to her and she stepped back, hitting the wall again. He was so close she could smell him, a faint hint of soap and skin. Musky and enticing. It felt dangerous to be so close to him, and she wasn’t sure why.
“I’ve been making my own decisions since I was thirteen,” he said, his breath fanning over her cheek. “And since then I’ve made good decisions and I have made very, very bad decisions. So trust me, I recognize both kinds when I see them, and I have only seen the bad kind from you.”
She swallowed, ignoring the sudden impulse she felt to draw closer to him. Maybe that’s why it felt so dangerous to be near him. Because controlling herself seemed harder. Because her body didn’t quite seem as though it belong to her anymore. “Bad or good, you were still allowed to make the decisions.”
“And there are some I would take back tonight if I were able to. You don’t ever want to be in that position. Trust me.”
She wanted to touch him. To put her hand on his face. To feel the sculpted muscles that she knew lay beneath his crisp dark suit. She curled her hands into fists and pinned them against the wall, forcing herself to deny the impulse.
He looked at her for a moment, the air between them too thick for her to breathe in. Then he turned away, putting his broad back to her.
“Go back to bed,” he said.
“You’re just … leaving?”
He turned back to her. “Do you need me to come and hold your hand? Tuck you in?”