Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 13969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
I don’t think this is working. We have fun together, but I think friends-only is the right vibe for us.
She waited, staring at her phone, and in only a few seconds, her text was decorated with the blandest of reactions: a thumbs-up.
To be fair, it’s the correct reaction to a breakup text, she thought.
With a laugh-groan, she pushed off the counter and walked to the door, intending to put on her big-girl-lamb pants and return to the party, unwilling to let Jake be her only tether to other people. But the door to the hallway was no longer open. And when her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw, too, that the room was no longer empty. A man—that man—tall as a tree and just as broad, leaned against the wall near the closed door, casually scrolling on his phone.
He looked up when she stepped out, and from behind his ornate black-feathered mask, his eyes went wide in the way she knew hers had too—as if they’d each been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.
“Oh.” She hooked a thumb behind her, saying, “The bathroom in the hall was occupied,” just as he said, “I needed a spot of quiet.”
His voice was low and rich, a melted confection, the words curled with a proper British accent. His clothes were all black, and something about him felt attractive, even though she couldn’t make his features out in the darkness, behind his mask.
“Okay, good,” she said, exhaling. “So I haven’t been caught sneaking around your room.”
His eyes drifted to the enormous blue-and-orange Knicks banner over the bed, and he uttered a sardonic “No.”
Cat was stunned into silence when he stepped forward into a bit of streetlight slanting in through the window and lifted his mask. She revised her thought that he must be attractive; in fact, she’d never seen a more gorgeous person in her life. His features were severe and aristocratic: thick, dark brows, intense brown eyes, strong cheekbones and jaw, and a mouth she was positive was equally skilled at kissing and mockery. And then he smiled, becoming devastatingly more beautiful. Deep smile lines carved into his cheeks, his eyes lit with mischief, crinkling at the corners. Cat felt her rib cage shove a shaking breath out and suck another back in, hungrily.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Time stretched, and the walls of the room seemed to shrink down to a shoebox. A weight in her chest heaved forward, the desire to move toward him, but she fought it, frowning in concentration as her hands reached back and curled around the edge of the windowsill.
He was frowning too, confused. Silence pulsed between them, a force compelling her forward, growing heavily in the air, and then she heard it, a soft Yes, darling, stay there, in that deep, luxurious voice she swore she’d heard back in the living room, like an invisible man’s voice had whispered directly into her ear. The tension snapped, freeing her to blink, to breathe, to retreat a step and feel the wood of the windowsill dig into the backs of her thighs.
She shook her head. “What did you say?” she asked.
He frowned, his “What do you mean?” coming too slow, like a clunky lie.
Awareness began at the base of Cat’s spine. She didn’t know how she was so certain, but she was: She’d been ensnared by him somehow, a fish lured in and caught on the end of a line before being released. The surreal question rose up her throat and stuck there: Did you do that to me?
She was being ridiculous. She should head back to the party. “Nothing. My mistake.”
He smiled warmly again, and the expression lit a small fire inside her.
“Happy Halloween,” she added.
He laughed, a sound so deep and intoxicating she felt it spreading like smoke through her bloodstream. “Is it?” he asked, smile turning wry.
Cat felt the laugh rise out of her. “Yeah . . . not really.”
He sent a hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled in a deep breath that only seemed to heighten his hunger for this strange human. He’d discovered that she could hear the voice but wasn’t commanded by it; she’d felt his allure, been tempted by it, but it hadn’t made her mindless. He could taste her in the air, her lust like golden licks of flame all around her—but she’d kept her own mind.
It had never happened, not once, in his entire immortal existence.
“I see you went all out with the costume,” she joked, and on the heels of his wonder, his dead heart jerked to life for a phantom beat before he realized what she meant. He gazed down at the mask in his hand.
“Yes, well, it was a last-minute decision to come here.”
“Are you a friend of Harry’s?”
“Is he the host?” he asked, looking back to her. “The poor sod dressed as a block of cheese?”