She huffed out a breath. “Did we not already talk about your seduction routine and how it needs way more work?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I felt your scars.”
He’d…Her hand lifted and she reached behind her left shoulder. Hell, you could feel the scars through her shirt. “When did you touch me?” She didn’t remember that. They stood right beside each other and she glared up at him.
“I touched you…” And he touched her right then, reaching around to trace the scar beneath her shirt. “When you cried out in your sleep. When you pressed your body to mine and begged Luke to stop hurting you.”
Her breath caught. He had details wrong. But…His voice had roughened. Anger? No, rage was there, bubbling just beneath the surface of Cass’s words. “Let me get this straight…” She peered up at him. “You’re about to hand me over to Luke on a silver platter, but you don’t like the idea of him hurting me?”
His glittering gaze was answer enough for her.
In that case…She immediately spun around and yanked up her shirt. Amber tossed the t-shirt on the bed. “Take a good, long look.” Normally, she hid her scars. They were ugly, twisting, the edges far too rough and tattered. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. She was fighting for her life. “See what he did to me.”
His gloved hands touched her scars and—she felt a spark. A surge of heat that lanced right over the rough ridge of scars and into her body. A tremble shook her and she whirled toward him. She grabbed the gloves. “What are these made of?”
His face was hard with rage. “What did he do to you?”
She lifted the gloves up to her eyes, staring at them as her heart raced far, far too fast. “They’re magic.”
“They have to be, in order to hold back my power.”
“Very powerful magic,” she added, not caring that she was standing in front of him with her bra exposed.
His gaze dipped to her breasts. Heated. “Very powerful.”
Dammit. “Did Luke give you those gloves?”
His gaze rose to meet hers. “Yes.”
“I hate him.”
Cass frowned. A sharp knock sounded at the door. She immediately tensed. “Leo!” Was that him at the door? He’d found them already?
“No, it’s not him. It’s room service. Or concierge—or some shit like that.” Cass turned from her and headed for the door.
“Wait—you ordered room service?” That seemed so…normal. So not Reaper-like.
He was yanking open the door, she was standing there in her bra—so Amber gave a quick cry and yanked the shirt back on as fast as she could. But she hadn’t needed to worry, he never let the guy at the door inside. Instead, Cass yanked a vase full of roses from the visitor and shoved a wad of bills at him.
“Thank you, sir, I—”
Cass slammed the door shut.
“That is so rude,” she muttered as she hurriedly put on her shoes.
Cass stared down at the flowers. “They…are?”
“Not them. Roses aren’t rude. Slamming the door is rude. You were supposed to thank him, and then nicely shut the door.”
“I gave him money and I did shut the door.” He paced toward her, the vase and those beautiful flowers held out in front of him.
“Yeah, but…” Her words trailed off. “Have you ever ordered room service before?”
“No.” He had his arms fully extended and the vase was right in front of her.
She looked at the blood-red roses then up at his face, then back at the roses. She frowned. “Is that…chocolate in there?”
“It better be.”
He was giving her chocolate and roses. He was holding the vase as if it were some sort of bomb, but the guy was actually giving her what she’d asked for…and despite everything, Amber found herself laughing. “Cass…is this your seduction routine?”
His cheeks heated. He glared at the roses. “You don’t like them.”
“I do, actually. Roses are my favorite.”
His gaze shot back to her. The big, bad Reaper. He looked so uncertain as he held those flowers out to her. She started to take them from him, but then her gaze fell on the gloves once more. Such powerful magic.
Almost like the magic she’d once possessed.
Sadness slid through her. Goosebumps rose on her arms.
“Amber?”
Her breath whispered out as she confessed, “I may have lied to you—”
She didn’t get to say anything else. The big window to her right suddenly exploded inward, sending chunks of glass flying toward her. Amber lifted her arms, instinctively trying to cover her face from the assault, but she knew it was useless. Too much glass. Too fast. Too—
Cass was in front of her. He grabbed her, pulling her face against his chest and shielding her with his body as that glass battered at them. She could smell blood in the air—knew it had to be his—and she struggled to look up at him.
“Well, well…” A low, growling voice filled the room. “Look what I found.”
That voice wasn’t familiar to her. Not Luke. Not Leo.