City of Fae

I marched from the bathroom and found him pacing in front of his fireplace, phone pressed to his ear. Behind him a huge, ultrathin TV played music videos loud enough to muffle the sound his boots made as he strode back and forth.

His gaze skipped to me, snaked down my body and back to my face where he noticed my wry smile and held up a finger, mouthing, “I’ll be right with you.” I arched an eyebrow, spotted an open bottle of wine and two glasses on the ridiculously long coffee table and poured myself a splash.

From Reign’s flat tone and hurried, clipped words, I assumed he was talking to someone official, maybe his agent. He defended his disappearing act; sounding all the more irritated with each stride.

Glass of wine in hand, I wandered barefoot about the living room, weaving around couches, antique chairs and tables, with plenty of space to spare. Dark colors declared masculine owner. I’d assumed he wasn’t “involved” with anyone, at least the newspaper reports made no mention of steady relationships, although there had been plenty of unsteady ones. Shay though … He had a thing for Shay, that was obvious, and not just because he had her clothes at his place. In Under, when he’d swept an arm around her, they’d fitted neatly alongside one another, in that way perfect couples do.

Trailing my finger along the spines of books sandwiched in a tall freestanding bookshelf, I watched the enigma that is Reign out of the corner of my eye. His unbuttoned shirt billowed as he paced. Lean jeans-clad legs ate up the space in front of the fireplace. Shadows played over the sharp angles of his face. A startling image of me knotting my fingers in his hair and plundering his mouth with mine brought a rush of heat to my cheeks. Swallowing, I turned my face away as the tingling itch crawled up my arm. It was the bespellment. Don’t let it distract you. I could beat this. It wasn’t real. Everything I felt for him was a trick, a trap. A lie.

He abruptly ended his call and tossed the phone onto a table, muttering a curse. Spearing his hands into his hair, he tilted his head back and blinked at the ceiling with a low growl. “Everyone wants a piece of me.”

Ah, genuine exasperation. So he wasn’t untouchable, after all. “I can go—”

“No.” He hissed, and then softened the denial with a wry smile. “No. It’s … it’s been a long few days.” A quick glance at the door. Maybe he expected company. “I shouldn’t have come back here. The FA will be looking for me. But I wanted to see this place again before it’s taken away.”

“What do you mean?” The borrowed gown rippled like water with each tiny movement. It spilled over me, cool against warm skin. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn something so glamorous. Maybe I never had? Reign’s appreciative gaze wandered lower. Clearing my throat, I crossed my arms. He could undress me with his eyes all he wanted, it wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“You look delicious.”

“Oh no you don’t. I’m not falling for it anymore, pal. Detective Andrews was right about you.”

“Was he?”

“Yes, yes he was. He’s very concerned.”

Reign smiled and scooping up the bottle of wine and his glass, he strode closer. “Of course he is.”

“He is.”

“Is that so?” Closer still, his gaze locked on me like a predator stalking its prey.

“Yup.” Tucking my hair behind an ear, I looked away, anywhere but at Reign, but found my attention irrevocably pulled back to him. “He thinks I need saving.”

“From me?” He stopped within touching distance, firing off all manner of warning alarms in my head. For a few breathless seconds he looked at me, eyes unblinking and body still. Hunger burned in those remarkable fae eyes. He made no attempt to hide it, his glare daring me to turn away, if I could.

He brought his glass to his lips and tasted his wine while I tried to ignore how the tip of his tongue skimmed his lower lip and how such a tiny gesture could sharpen my breaths.

“He has nothing to worry about.” His soft words, spoken barely above a whisper, scattered a flight of pleasurable shivers through me. “If I wanted you,” he drawled, “I’d have had you already, American Girl.”

Finally he dropped his gaze and refilled my glass from the bottle. If I wanted you … I didn’t imagine his heated glances or how his words meant one thing but the sound of them alluded to something else entirely.

I gulped a knot of nerves and smiled brightly. “Exactly.” My chest tightened, and I understood the second law. Don’t feel. Oh man, I felt all right. I felt how his words sparkled lust through my veins as surely as the alcohol would loosen inhibitions. Damn, where was my conviction? Gone, along with my common sense apparently.