At least she’d gotten a punch in on the bastard before he’d been sent on his merry way. Yet even the satisfaction she’d gotten from breaking his nose was short-lived, since it was probably healed by now. She shook her head in disgust as the warm bathwater soaked into her chilled skin, finally warming her enough to stop the shivers that had pulsed through her.
She and Knox would never see eye to eye. He wanted her to trust him. She could see it on his face plain as day every time he looked at her. She’d even begun to think that maybe there was a small possibility she could do so, until now. She was well aware that her hormones had probably been the cause of that wishful thinking and had nothing to do with the cold truth of reality. But she’d never been kissed like he’d kissed her. He’d not only kissed her, he’d touched her like she was the most precious gem in the world.
When he kissed her, she’d felt as if he was laying claim to her soul, imprinting himself on her forever.
She’d burned under his expert ministrations, and she’d craved more, yearned to submit to his every demand.
She’d wanted to make him go up in flames as she had, but it could never be.
She couldn’t fraternize with the enemy no matter how much she wanted to, and oh, how she wanted to.
Was it so much to ask that the first time she met a man she wanted he’d be human? She nearly laughed out loud. A human male would never cut it either. She’d never subject another to the danger that surrounded her.
Knox would be the death of her, maybe not in the physical sense, but he’d play the starring role in the demise of her heart. She’d allowed herself to feel too much for him, and she had to put an end to it before it was too late. She had to leave—tonight. It would be difficult at best to escape him, but she would figure out how to do it somehow. She squared her shoulders in determination and started devising a plan. Once her iron will was set on something, she very rarely failed.
The first thing she’d do once she escaped Knox was find that little bastard he’d let go and do the world a favor by ridding it of him. The rogue had scared her, and she didn’t like to be scared. Fear made her feel weak, helpless, and it dug up memories of the past she preferred to keep buried. She sat up and reached for a towel before standing. Water sloshed down her legs, and the cool air hit her, sending goose bumps scattering over the surface of her skin.
She could hear thunk, thunk, thunk in the bedroom and assumed Knox was fixing the window that had been broken by the rogue. She drained the tub, dried off, and dressed in jeans, thick socks, boots, and a hoodie pulled over a T-shirt. She always wore sensible cotton panties, but never a bra.
She hated the damn things, and had never found one that was comfortable. Thankful to be in her own clothes again, she glanced at Knox’s discarded shirt on the floor, quickly picked it up, and tucked it into her bag before she combed her hair and gave her teeth a quick brush.
She didn’t quite understand what had made her put his shirt in her bag, but for some peculiar reason, she wanted to hang on to it. She took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob, but stopped just short of touching it. She didn’t want to go out there while he was still there. When he was near, her common sense liked to flee in happy surrender.
She listened until the banging and shuffling stopped, then waited a few moments more in the silence before going back into the bedroom. The window was boarded over, and Knox was gone. She set her bag on the bed and paced the floor, barely noticing its creakity creaks under her steps. She knew he wanted to talk to her about tonight’s events, probably even try to convince her that he’d been right in sending the lycan away instead of killing him.
She jumped when a knock sounded on the door. “Yes?”
“We need to talk.” Knox’s voice came muffled through the door.
She looked around and quickly decided talking in the bedroom probably wasn’t the best idea, afraid of what her hormones may encourage her to do. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Time to put her plan into action. She’d listen and do her part in making him believe she was coming around to his way of thinking. She’d act as if she were entertaining the idea of agreeing with his view of things, lull him into a false sense of security, one that would hopefully lower his guard of her enough to allow her escape. She pushed aside the fact that deceiving him felt wrong, tamped it down and locked it away.
When she stepped out into the hall, the smell of cooking meat wafted through the air, and her stomach growled in protest. How long had it been since she’d eaten? Too long. She’d never been happier that she wasn’t a vegetarian—even if she was, the delectable aroma of beef might be enough temptation to turn her. She followed the mouthwatering trail to the kitchen, where Knox was standing by a stove, turning over two of the largest steaks she’d ever seen. His back was to her, and she couldn’t help but admire the broad width of his shoulders. She felt fragile, feminine around him, and strangely that turned her on more than irritated her.
“I don’t follow a regular eating schedule. I’m sorry. I should have fed you before now. I hope you like steak, baked potatoes, and salad.” He glanced over his shoulder at her before checking the oven.
“Sounds good. Do you need help with anything?”
“You can pour the tea. The glasses are in the cabinet to my right, and the tea’s in the fridge.”
She found the glasses, filled them with tea, and checked the freezer for ice. She was happy there was ice because she loved lots of it in whatever she happened to be drinking—including milk. After refilling the trays and putting the half-empty pitcher back in the fridge, she carried the glasses to the small wooden table that sat in a nook off the kitchen, beside a bay window. She noticed the two bowls of salad on the counter and went to get them. Her stomach growled again when she saw the crisp lettuce topped with cherry tomatoes, cheese, cucumbers, and croutons.
“Dressing is in the fridge too,” he said as he slid the two steaks onto separate plates.
“Ranch or Italian?” she asked.
“Ranch. Thank you.”
She poured a bit of ranch on both salads, put the dressing back, and followed Knox to the table. He set a plate down in front of her before getting the butter and sour cream from the fridge.
“Do you need salt or pepper?”
“No. This looks wonderful. Thank you, Knox.”
He gave her a curt nod, and she had a feeling he wasn’t happy about the conversation that was about to take place between them. He wasn’t the only one. She was about to lie to him, and she didn’t like to lie to anyone, even if it was for her own benefit.
He handed her a fork and knife, and they began to eat. She groaned when the rich flavor from the first bite of steak exploded against her tongue. The man could cook. The meat was done to perfection. Moist, tender, a bit pink inside, but no blood—just like she preferred. She noticed his was a bit rarer.
“Good, huh?” He smiled and took a big bite before closing his eyes and chewing as if savoring every second of the succulent meat.
“Mmm. Yes. You are an excellent cook.” She took another bite and almost choked when he smiled and trained those hot midnight eyes on her. Her insides started to melt much like the steak had in her mouth. How could he do that to her with one simple heated glance?
“I wouldn’t say I’m an excellent cook, but if a man should know anything, it should be how to cook a steak properly.”
They continued to eat in silence until she’d eaten almost half of the food, and she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to ask him the question that had been nagging at her.
“Why did you let the lycan go? He attacked me.” She chewed as she watched him, waiting for an explanation.