She looked at him, dark eyes wide, filled with emotion. Filled with everything. They were windows into her, letting him see just how young and open she still was. How unscarred by the things of the world.
How easy it would be to hurt her. To damage all of that sparkle, all of that soft, sweet beauty. He curled his hands into fists, so rough and scarred from living the kind of life Eva couldn’t possibly imagine. Touching her would be a cruelty.
“I never thought you would,” she said.
“Then you are truly naive,” he said, his tone rough, unrecognizable even to himself. He hadn’t given himself permission to speak the words, to betray so much. “I’m only a man after all.”
She took a step toward him, and he took a step back. “I never took you for anything else,” she said. She extended her hand and took another step. This time he didn’t move back. He dared her to follow through with what she was starting. He didn’t believe she would.
She took another step toward him, resting her hand lightly on his chest, right over his heart. “Just as I thought,” she said. “Not a machine at all. You even have a heartbeat.”
He put his hand over hers, held it to his chest. He felt as though he was starving for contact, a connection. For touch. Her touch. His heartbeat sped up beneath their hands and he dropped his hold on her, the realization of crossing a line hitting him a beat too late.
“I never thought you’d do anything to take advantage of me,” she said softly, her fingers flexing against his chest. Testing him. Torturing him.
“Then your imagination is sadly lacking,” he said.
He could feel his control slipping, feel himself losing hold of everything. Of honor. Of reality. Of everything but the raging desire that was pouring into him.
“You’re offended that I imagined you would be honorable?” she asked slipping her hand from beneath his and crossing her arms beneath her breasts, drawing his eyes to them again.
He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his body. He lowered his head, stopping with his lips just a breath from hers. “I am not a eunuch.”
Her dark eyes widened, plump lips parted. “I never thought you were.”
He moved his head closer. He could feel her breath on his mouth, tempting him to take a taste. A shudder moved through his body. Need. Desire. Stronger than he’d ever felt them. His grasp on his control so much more tenuous than it had ever been. Because of Eva. “Then don’t assume I’m somehow above the needs of a man. Don’t assume that simply because a tiger has been put in a cage, he doesn’t want to eat you.”
She angled her face, putting their lips even closer, her dark eyes glittering. Challenging. Utterly Eva. “I’m gratified to hear it.”
He released her and stepped back. “As it is, I’m currently caged.”
She tilted her chin up, her expression defiant. “I’m sure we’re both better for it.”
“No doubt.” He moved to the door, ignoring the rage and need that was coursing through him like a current, ready to overflow the confines of a river bed. “Dinner?”
“I thought you’d never ask. I’m starving.”
Eva had never been more grateful to have a large piece of furniture between her and someone else. What had passed between her and Mak upstairs had left her shaking. And wanting more.
She took a sip of her soup and devoted a lot more concentration to watching the spoon as she pulled it away from her lips and set it back down into the bowl. Then she devoted a lot more attention than anyone not cooking the soup needed to devote to the rich red color of the broth. Anything to avoid looking at Mak.
She’d betrayed too much. She’d pushed him too far. Of course, he’d revealed a bit himself, but then … he was a man. A point he’d made very clear. And admitting desire was probably a lot easier, and more common and less meaningful for a man than it was for a woman.
At least, it would be for her brother, who seemed to change mistresses with alarming frequency. Stavros would admit desire for a woman within five minutes of meeting her, and likely have that desire satisfied a couple of hours after that. Discreetly, of course, since Stavros would never do anything to compromise the family name.