Twisted Games (Twisted 2) - Page 68

That was, for lack of a better term, utter crap. Rhys didn’t slip. He may be larger than the average person, but he moved with the lethal grace of a panther.

That was what he reminded me of right now—a panther preparing to pounce on unwitting prey. Taut face, coiled muscles, and eyes trained with laser intensity on Steffan, who shifted with discomfort beneath his stare.

“Attention all guests, the gardens are closing in fifteen minutes.” The announcement blared over the PA system, savings from the most awkward moment of my life. “Please make your way to the exits. The gardens are closing in fifteen minutes. Visitors in the gift shop, please finalize your purchases.”

“I guess that’s our cue.” Steffan held out his arm with a smile, though he kept a wary eye on Rhys. “Shall we, Your Highness?”

We’d booked the greenhouse for ourselves, though the rest of the gardens remained open to the public. We could probably stay longer if we wanted, but I had no desire to drag out the night.

I took Steffan’s arm and walked to the exit, where we said goodbye with a stilted half-hug, half-kiss on the cheek and promises to meet up again when he returned to Athenberg.

Rhys and I didn’t speak until we reached our car.

“You’re paying for the flowerpot,” I said.

“I’ll take care of it.”

The parking lot was empty except for a handful of cars in the distance, and tension rolled between us, so thick I could practically taste it.

“I know he fits the image of Prince Charming, but you might want to keep looking.” Rhys unlocked the car doors. “I’ve seen you kiss a cat with more passion.”

“Is that why you knocked over the lilies?”

“My. Hand. Slipped,” he bit out.

Maybe it was the wine I’d had at dinner, or the stress was getting to me. Whatever it was, I couldn’t help it—I burst into laughter. Wild, hysterical laughter that left me gasping for breath and clutching my stomach right there in the middle of the parking lot.

“What the hell is so funny?” Rhys’s grumpy tone only made me laugh harder.

“You. Me. Us.” I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “You’re an ex-Navy SEAL and I’m royalty, and we’re in such denial we might as well apply for Egyptian citizenship.”

He didn’t crack a smile at my admittedly lame attempt at a joke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop it.” I was tired of fighting. “I asked you before, and I’m asking you again. Why did you come back, Mr. Larsen? The real answer this time.”

“I gave you the real answer.”

“The other real answer.”

Rhys’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know what you want me to say, princess.”

“I want you to say the truth.”

I knew my truth. I needed to hear his.

My truth? There was only one man who’d ever given me butterflies with a kiss. One man whose touch set me on fire and made me believe in all the fantastical things I’d dreamed about since I was a child.

Love, passion, desire.

“Truth?”

Rhys took a step toward me, the hard steel in his eyes giving way to turbulent thunderstorms.

I took an instinctive step back until my back hit the side of our SUV. There was another car next to us, and the two vehicles formed a makeshift cocoon that crackled with electricity as he planted his hands on either side of my head.

“The truth, princess, is I came back knowing this was what I signed up for. To see you every day and not be able to touch you. Kiss you. Claim you.” Rhys’s breath was hot against my skin as he lowered one hand and slid it up my thigh. It seared through the thick layers of my skirt and tights until my pussy clenched and my nipples tightened into hard points. “I came back despite knowing the torture I’d have to go through because I can’t stay away from you. Even when you’re not there, you’re everywhere. In my head, in my lungs, in my fucking soul. And I’m trying very hard not to lose my shit right now, sweetheart, because all I want is to cut off that fucker’s head and serve it on a platter for daring to touch you. Then bend you over the hood and spank your ass raw for letting him.” He cupped me between my legs and squeezed. I whimpered with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “So don’t. Push. Me.”

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