She forgot her urge to slap his arrogant face as she slowly scanned the pale ash furniture that filled the room.
Beyond the canopied bed, there was a chest set beneath a large stained-glass window that was composed in shades of indigo and saffron and crimson with threads of gold. The arched masterpiece not only provided beauty, but filtered out any potential sunlight. Near the fireplace was a rocking chair that matched the large armoire near the door. And nearer the bed was a delicate washstand.
There was a definite medieval vibe, but it was the exquisite craftsmanship that captured Fallon’s attention.
With a soft sigh she shoved herself to her knees, reaching to skim her fingers over the delicate pattern that had been carved into the wooden posts of the bed.
Row after row of tiny flowers and woodland creatures flowed from the top of the post to the bottom, each one charmingly different in design. And the carvings were echoed on every piece of furniture, giving the room an ethereal beauty that tugged at her heart.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, feeling as if she were surrounded by a woodland glade despite the fact that the sun would never be allowed to stray beyond the window. “Really, really beautiful.”
Cyn made a strangled sound, as if pushed to the very edge.
“Bloody hell, you could drive a saint to drink,” he roared.
Ignoring the completely unfair accusation, she continued to stroke her fingers over the glossy wood.
“Where did you find the furnishings?”
“I made them.”
She sent him a startled glance. “You?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
Fallon frowned at the hint of defensiveness in his tone. Was he embarrassed to reveal his artistic talent?
“This is fey in design.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “I was taken in by fairies while I was a foundling. Mika trained me to carve.”
Fallon couldn’t deny a stab of curiosity.
She’d watched this world enough to know it was extremely unusual for any demon to foster another species, let alone a fairy taking in a savage vampire.
It would be like a human adopting a full-grown lion.
But she wasn’t about to probe. Not when Cyn was already treating her as if she were some unwelcomed intruder who’d invaded his lair.
Like black mold.
“He must have been a master craftsman,” she instead murmured.
“Careful, princess. That was perilously close to a compliment,” he mocked.
Okay. That was it.
Turning her head, she stabbed him with a furious glare.
“Do you always have to be an ass?”
He abruptly grimaced, then without warning, he reached out to cup her cheek with his hand.
“No,” he said, his thumb brushing her lower lip.
Fallon stilled, sensing the electric tension that sizzled between them.
“Cyn?”
His lips twisted at the sudden uncertainty in her voice.
“We’re stuck together. At least for now,” he said, his gaze lowering to her mouth. Almost as if he was imagining how it would taste beneath his own. “We need a truce.”
Fallon shivered, the image of him tumbling her back onto the mattress and covering her with his hard body searing through her mind.
It was raw and primal and scary as hell.
You’re playing with fire, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. And you’re the one who’s going to get burned.
She covertly inched back on the mattress. He carried with him a force field that threatened to suck her in.
“It should be simple enough.” She managed to sound almost indifferent. Good for her.
His gaze remained locked on her lips. “Do you think so?”
“This is obviously a large lair. There’s truly no need to spend any time in each other’s company.”
Something that looked like . . . hurt . . . flared through his eyes before he abruptly dropped his hand and stepped back.
“Right,” he muttered, turning to head toward the door. “A perfect solution.”
“Wait.” Feeling ridiculously guilty, Fallon scrambled off the bed, her feet barely touching the floor as the door was being slammed shut.
With a shake of her head, she flopped back on the mattress, wondering why men had to be so . . . so impossible.
Cyn didn’t know why he was so pissed as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Hell, he should be pleased the aggravating little fairy wanted to stay out of his way. This was his home. The place he indulged in his favorite vices.
The last thing he wanted was an intrusive, nagging, obscenely tempting . . .
He muttered a curse, storming toward a wide staircase to make his way to his private chambers that were built belowground. The entire castle was wrapped in spells of illusion as well as thick magic that prevented any stray trespassers. There were also heavy stained-glass windows that shielded the interior from the sun.