Sweet Temptation (The Sweet Trilogy #4)(23)

“Okay, that must have looked really bad,” she says as she fumbles to put my things away. “I was just trying to figure out what cologne you wear.”

Ah. I see. This is an interesting turn of events. She’s caught my scent.

I cross my arms and move into the room, trying not to show how much I’m enjoying this. “I haven’t been wearing any cologne.”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Let’s just forget about it.”

Not a chance.

“What is it you smell, exactly?” Ginger told me what my pheromones smelled like when we were younger, and if that’s what Anna is detecting, that means she’s been opening her senses unknowingly. I move forward, wanting her to look at me, but she won’t. That’s okay. Judging by her mix of anxiety, excitement, confusion, and lust, I’m affecting her just fine.

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s like citrus and the forest or something . . . leaves and tree sap. I can’t explain it.”

Ginger said I smelled like sour kumquats and dirt, the cow. I think she just enjoyed saying kumquat. “Citrus? Like lemons?”

“Oranges mostly. And a little lime, too.”

I like her description a lot more than Gin’s. I flick the hair from my eyes. Things are about to get serious.

“What you smell are my pheromones, Anna.”

Her laugh is a shrill, nervous burst, as if she doesn’t believe me.

“Oh, okay, then. Well . . .” Anna tries to leave the bathroom, but I shift to block her. We are not finished yet.

“People can’t usually smell pheromones. You must be using your extra senses without realizing it. I’ve heard of Neph losing control of their senses with certain emotions. Fear, surprise.” Wait for it. . . . “Lust.”

Embarrassment rises up, but there is still a hint of red lining the bottom of her aura as she babbles a lame excuse about her senses. She is far too adorable to be trapped in a bathroom with the likes of me.

“Would you like to know your own scent?” I ask.

Her eyes widen as they dart around the bathroom. “Uh, not really. I think I should probably go.”

I think not.

“You smell like pears with freesia undertones.”

“Wow, okay.” She clears her throat, and her aura pops with lust. “I think I’ll just . . .” She presses herself against the sink to inch past me, as if touching me will set off a bomb. I hold up my hands, far too amused.

She rushes about the room, stuffing her feet into sneakers. If she thinks to escape me, she’d better think again. I’m not letting her out of this hotel without me. And she can be in denial all she wants, but there will be more snogging tonight.

“Going somewhere?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m going for a run.”

Not alone you’re not. “Mind if I join you?”

“Only if you’ll do something for me.”

My eyebrows go up.

“Teach me to hide my colors,” she says.

Eh, not exactly what I had in mind. Very well, then. Skills now, snogging later.

I watch her arse as she climbs the rocks ahead of me, and I’m glad I’m wearing loose shorts. I need to calm down before we get up there. It’s a bit easier when she reaches the top and sits, successfully obstructing any view of her backside. I give myself a moment, then pull up next to her and lie down. I stretch out on the warm, lumpy rock surface, staring up at the sky.

Trying not to think about sex.

Last night’s escapade was not enough. Even with all I divulged to Anna today, I daresay she’s not ready to sleep with me yet. Perhaps I’m going about this all wrong. Perhaps I should pretend to be smitten. Is that what she’d prefer? Maybe if . . .

What is she doing? I go completely still as her hand tentatively touches my knuckles and her fingers slide between mine, soft and warm and small.

She’s holding my hand.

Why is my heart beating so fast? And why does it feel like we’re going entirely too fast and too slow all at once? I search the skies for dark whisperers, stretching my senses in a wide arc, but there’s no sign of spirits.

I let myself feel her hand in mine, even though Kaidan Rowe does not hold hands. The gesture is so simple. So lovely that it rocks something deep inside me. I contemplate pulling away, but decide to let it continue, telling myself it’s all an act, and that two hands touching is not a monumental event.

We lie there a bit longer, holding hands and chatting. She pays close attention as I explain how I visualize the hiding of my aura, and her eagerness draws me in. I find myself wanting her to learn—wanting to assist her. An hour flies by. I’m shocked and relieved by how quickly she catches on. Think of all the other things I can teach her.

That thought sends a shot of lust straight to my groin, and I shift.

Damn it. Focus. We’re not finished working on her aura.

Hiding emotions is much more difficult in real terms. I need to see how she handles disguising her feelings under duress. I need to rattle her. Naturally, lust is the first thing that comes to mind, so I let my instincts take over.

“You know, for the record, Anna, I won’t think any less of you if you change your mind about doing the things my father expects.”

Please change your mind, I silently beg. Let me train you and have your body just once. Then maybe this ridiculous craving for her will go away.