Pennies (Dollar #1)(55)

But no response.

Not that it mattered.

By the end of the night, I would know all I needed to.

I’ll win, Pimlico.

I always do.

Keeping eye contact, my fingers separated parts of her hair. She sucked in a breath as I wrapped a smaller section around the larger pony and tucked it under.

“There, nowhere else to hide.” Sitting back, I stared at her, finally able to see the angles of her cheekbones, the starkness of her jaw, and the sallowed hue of her mistreated skin.

“You can’t stop me from getting my answers,” I murmured. “So I’d give up if I were you.”

Her chin cocked with sharpness.

“How are you still alive?” I chuckled. “When you’re so damn belligerent?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You think you behave and do what’s expected of you, but I’ve been watching.” I dropped my voice. “I see you glare at him. I see your hatred. I feel it.”

Her gaze darted to the corners of the room, her shoulders rolling.

I followed her concern. “You expect an unwelcome visitor soon, don’t you?”

She stiffened.

“You’re right. He won’t permit my presence for long.” I glanced at the door. “I don’t know how much time we have, so I guess I’ll have to work fast.”

Her body seized; her bruised stomach fluttered.

“I don’t mean I need to f*ck you fast.”

Her eyes whipped to mine.

“If I do enjoy you that way, it will be after I’ve learned your secrets. Not before.”

A ghost of a smile lit her lips.

I laughed softly. “Do you think keeping your secrets will protect you from me?”

Her huff pleased me as I dragged a hand through my hair and slowly relaxed into this strange inquisition. “Secrets have a way of coming out with the right people asking, Pimlico.”

In a way, I was glad she didn’t speak. My own history was safe. She wouldn’t find out the reasons I was drawn to her. She wouldn’t know that I couldn’t walk away yet because I saw my past in her eyes.

She was a minor hiccup in my world. My interest in her had nothing to do with her damaged beauty or immense courage. Nothing at all to do with the silhouette of what lay hidden between her legs or her tight pink nipples.

Don’t be f*cking ridiculous.

I had self-control.

I’ll prove it.

Pointing at her bandage, I whispered, “I was the reason for that.”

She didn’t move, but her violence-artwork skin turned white.

Not letting her drown in whatever thoughts she swam in, I gently took her broken hand. “I know I caused this by touching you that night. And I know that, once I leave, you’ll be subjected to more.” My fingers stroked hers. “But don’t think I’ll suffer guilt knowing that. The world is a f*cked-up place, and we all have our demons to bear. You won’t get compassion from me, but you will get respect.”

Letting her hand go, I pushed her shoulder. “Lie down.”

She swayed in impudence, but I increased my pressure, giving her no choice. Tumbling backward, her legs stayed locked together, hiding what I wanted to see. Her small breasts bounced making my mouth water.

Fuck, why was I taking it slow with her?

She was mine to do anything I wanted. Torturing myself wasn’t my idea of a good time.

Her eyes imprisoned mine, wide but unafraid.

She fascinated me, even though she wasn’t sexy with her skin and bones, I found her resilience such a f*cking turn-on.

I wanted her. I wanted to let myself loose and do what I’d dreamed about last night.

But I wouldn’t…not yet.

I had much more important things to claim. Plus, as much as my life was full of sin (and I asked for no apology for what I was), I refused to be like Alrik. She had enough *s in her life. While she belonged to me, she’d learn that a bastard could still be a gentleman.

Lying on my side, I propped myself up on my elbow and ran a fingertip up her naked side. Her hard nipples turned to pinpricks while her discoloured stomach panted for oxygen. I didn’t say a word as I trailed my touch over one rib, then two, creeping closer to her breast.

With each inch, she shut down a little more. I sensed her pulling away, her mind leaving, whatever mechanisms she had in place to endure such torture tugging her into its safe haven.

I stopped.

She didn’t breathe.

“Relax.”

She shot tighter than a cello string.

“I see you don’t like that word.”

Her head turned, granting me turbulent but mutinous eyes.

“Or maybe, you don’t trust that word.” I couldn’t f*cking blame her. Holding my hand up, I deliberately placed it on the bed in the small gap between our bodies. “Okay, have it your way. No more touching. But you do owe me, Pim, and I never forget a debt.”

Her forehead furrowed.

I didn’t know in denial or confusion, but I enlightened her anyway. “The rule I gave you: what I do, you must do. And what you do, I must do.” I lowered my head, skimming my nose over her cheekbone. “Are you forgetting I touched myself?”

The mattress rocked as she inched her hips away. It wasn’t much—barely noticeable—but I noticed.

And I wasn’t f*cking happy about it.