Page 43 of Fallen to Thievery
“If you behave.”
The mischief in his voice sent sparks down my spine. “And if I don’t?” I countered.
His eyes shot up, surprised by my suggestive tone. I was pinned by his eyes for one long second, before he continued with my foot. He didn’t respond, but I caught the slight upturn of his mouth.
Why did I say that?“How’s the couch?” I asked, trying to change the subject. I should steer clear of starting things I had no intention of finishing.
He shrugged. “It’s decent. Why? Want to swap?”
A scowl drew my brows together. “No self-respecting princess sleeps on a couch.” I stuck my nose in the air, delighting in his laughter.
He stood from the bed and bowed deeply. “All done, Your Highness. I shall retire for the evening, lest Your Highness requires any…otherservices?” He spoke in an accent that was surprisingly good.
I pretended not to catch the obvious suggestive undertone of his question. Joke or no, I felt too flustered to come up with a witty response. “No, I’m quite all right.” I added quickly, “And thanks for this.” I lifted my bandaged foot, very un-princess like.
Grayson smiled while lifting me up and pulling the duvet from under me. He tucked me in like a child. He seemed to notice then how close his face was to mine, and his eyes drifted to my lips. Was he thinking of kissing me? He came even closer, and my breathing hitched. I could feel his breath fanning across my face, sending waves of electricity through my body. I inched upward, pulled to him as if magnetised. I waited breathlessly for him to close the gap, to press his lips to mine.
But he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me softly on my forehead, his lips a whisper on my skin as he said, “Get some rest, Princess.”
My thoughts were cloudy as he left the room and closed the door behind him. I was relieved to not hear the lock on the outside of the door.
So much had changed. I went from utterly fearing Grayson to wanting him to kiss me in a matter ofdays. I turned to my side and clutched my knees to my chest. With him not in the room, his presence not ingulfing me, I could see it. The foolishness. The stupidity. This was not healthy. I’ve crossed a boundary, right into the land of insanity.
Yes, he was being kind to me. And he was interesting, and smart and intense and strong and sexy as hell. But he was also mean and abrasive and ill-tempered and dangerous.
He wasdangerous. I shouldn’t have forgotten that. I was completely at his mercy, and it was a hazardous place to be. I needed to put some distance between us, create some boundaries. How would he react to that? No clue, because I had no clue who I was dealing with. I needed to take a step back and get all my peculiar little ducks back in a row.
Ihadnomemoryof falling asleep, but I slept through the whole afternoon and night. The sunbeams shining through the window onto my face, woke me the next morning. I was still in a sleep haze when the smell of eggs and bacon pulled me out of bed. I was ravenous. Getting dressed took longer than usual with my still stiff body. I brushed through my hair and put on some mascara that I now possessed thanks to Gemma.
I trotted awkwardly down the stairs with a plan—to get Grayson to back off. I would set boundaries, and hopefully he would oblige.
Walking into the kitchen, my heart stopped as Grayson turned from the stove. He had no business looking that good in grey sweatpants. The white t-shirt he had on was worn and sheer with age and had a hole in both the front and backside. The contours of his astonishing body was visible underneath the material.
“You’re staring, Princess.” He was walking towards the dining table to set down some plates.
I swallowed hard and tried to find someplace else to look. “I was just wondering why a billionaire couldn’t afford to buy a new t-shirt. At the very least you could just steal one.”
He frowned down at his shirt. “What’s wrong with it? It’s my favourite.” He went back to the stove to check on the bacon sizzling in the frying pan.
“Don’t get too close. The heat might disintegrate it,” I joked, leaning with my hip against the kitchen island to take some weight off my sore foot.
Grayson turned with a glare and walked towards me. I let go of my breath as he passed me to the fridge.
Good. The strange, heavy tension that was between us yesterday was replaced with a lightness, a familiarity. Like the vibe I got from the tree in my backyard—a sort of acceptance of our co-existence.
I could deal with that.
Grayson took a carton of orange juice out and placed it on the dining table. He pointed to a cabinet behind me. “Would you grab a few glasses?”
“Yes, of course.” I shook myself out of the haze and placed four glasses around the table. I also laid some forks and knives out. There was not much else I could do so I went back to leaning against the island, content to watch Grayson finish with breakfast. He was whistling softly, an unfamiliar tune. In between flipping the bacon, he was writing in a book. I took a closer look when curiosity got the better of me. It was a book with crossword puzzles. The one he was busy with was almost done.
My feet carried me forward. “You had this the whole time? You couldn’t have given it to me all those times I was bored out of my mind?” I said as I picked it up. I hadn’t really been bored, but still. It would have helped to stave off the constant thoughts of my impending death.
He gave me a sly, crooked grin. “ThenIwould have been bored.”
I snatched the pen he had tucked behind his ear, placing the book back down and wrote an answer in the one he was currently busy with. I gave him a sarcastic smile. I hated it when someone wrote in my crossword while I was still busy with it, or when someone stood over my shoulder and blurted an answer—like my motherlovedto do. I hoped it irked him just as much.
“Well, if you’re going to appropriate my puzzle book, at least fill in number five, down, of the previous puzzle,” he said in a flat tone.
