A Kiss of Fire (A Kiss of Magic #2)(25)

“I could say the same.”

Their eyes met stubbornly over the distance between them, each believing in their own reasons and causes.

Then Sin stepped close to her once more, reached to trail a finger over the exposed yoke of her collarbone. She went to jerk away but he stopped her by wrapping his hand around her throat. She breathed hard, looked up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“You will come to me,” he said, his voice like thick velvet. “You may fight me all of the way, but you will come to me.”

“I will not,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance.

He let go of her throat and moved away from her. He turned and walked to the door. He banged his fist on it hard twice and the lock turned. The door swung open and he strode through it without looking back at her.

As soon as the door closed she sagged in relief. She moved to the chair sitting before the fire and sank down into it. The man was relentless. He would never give up, she realized. He could and would be just as stubborn as she was. He made no empty promises or threats. He was willing to back up everything to the nth degree.

She knew this was just beginning and already she was exhausted. She was shivering in her own skin, even though she had the ability to warm herself from the inside out and she was sitting before a fire to boot. She didn’t know how much of him she could take. Hopefully he would come at her in small doses and she could continue to steel herself against him. But it was imperative she did not let him touch her again. Something about him weakened her, toyed with her resolve to hate him. She felt him in a way she had never felt a man before. Maybe it was because he was so raw, so untamed that she felt this way. Maybe it was because she had never felt anything like him in her life. Certainly nothing like the overwhelming heat that assailed her every time he kissed her.

No. She had to keep him at a distance.

Because she was afraid he was right.

She was afraid that one day, she would be the one begging for him.




Sin stormed away from the room in a fury of temper. But he wasn't angry with her. He was furious with himself. That had not gone as he had intended it to. He had been determined to show her a different side of himself. To let her know that he was more than the barbarian she made him out to be. Instead he had played right into her hands. He had acted the part exactly as she would have expected him to.

He had lost control of himself, of the situation…hells…of everything. He had played the brute perfectly, proving to her that she was right about him. That he was no more than his baser animal side.

But he had waited so long to have her…and having her there, dressed in Kiltian clothes, her hair dressed perfectly in the Saren style…all of those blood red curls falling down her graceful neck. And the fire in her beautiful face as she had stood up to him. It had been more than he could bear.

He wanted her. More than he had wanted anything in his life, he wanted her. He was willing to throw everything away to have her. But it wouldn’t come to that, he was sure. As long as he played his hand the right way…but it was so precarious. All of it. It balanced on the head of a pin and tipping either way would have him falling into a void.

And she had no idea what he had done just to have her. What risk he was taking. She thought it was easy for him, but it wasn't. She thought he had nothing to lose here and that all the loss was hers. She couldn’t be more wrong.

Sin kept walking until he was outside in the crisp, frigid air. He took in deep breaths to calm himself. He had a full day’s work ahead of him, but it would be damn difficult to concentrate knowing she was mere rooms away hating him and everything he stood for.





Chapter Eight


Ariana didn’t see him for the rest of that day.

The next day, however, he came as he had the previous one. In the morning as soon as she was dressed. As he entered she saw he had a cloak in his hands and was dressed himself in one.

“Put this on,” he said, handing her the cloak.

She took it from him and did not put it on.

“Are we going out?”

“There is something you should see,” was all he said.

She grudgingly put the cloak on and he held out his hand to her. She ignored it and sailed on out of the door ahead of him. The minute she stepped outside she got her bearings. She was in a large hallway that smelled of new wood. The floors were all marble and all of the walls near her room were marble, of course, but the walls were made of wood paneling across the way from her room. She could have easily set the whole place on fire that minute if she wanted to. But…of course she didn’t. She couldn’t have escaped without Mariah, and…she saw too many people hurrying through the hallway. She couldn’t see her way clear to hurt any innocent bystanders in her bid for freedom. Of course, she didn’t know how innocent any of them were…but still. What would she do once she escaped the house? She had no idea where she was.

He led her outside. The door was off the end of the hallway and led directly into a courtyard of sorts. This too seemed freshly made. The laid stones were without flaws or scuffs. And when she looked back over her shoulder she saw an enormous structure that reeked of newness. In fact, some parts of it appeared to still be under construction. A portion of the third story.

So much for not having room and wasted space, she thought with a huff.

There was a horse in the courtyard with a saddle on it. The saddle was made of fine-tooled leather, decorative braids full of color hanging off of it. The Kiltians, it seemed, loved color. All of the women she was seeing were dressed in multi-colored hues from all over the spectrum. The servants were all wearing outfits of varying color in workable, sturdy cottons and wools. She was the only one she could see who was wearing a fabric as fine as silk.