Page 37 of Twisted Temptation

“See something you like?” he says without opening his eyes.

I take a sharp step back, and a blast of heat hits my cheeks.

“Not at all,” I say.

His eyes open, and they’re dark, heavy-lidded, and lazy. The corner of his mouth kicks up, and I want to smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

“You like what you see, little rose?”

“Little rose?” I ask.

His eyes shift to the small rose tattoo on my hip, the result of an impulsive teenage rebellion.

I ignore the nickname because I don’t like the flutter I feel in my stomach at the huskiness of his voice. “I was checking to see if you were alive.”

“And?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He smiles, and two very sexy dimples appear, one on either side of his mouth. "I plan on divorcing you in twelve months, not making you a widow."

"I don't suppose we could skip ahead to the divorce now and avoid the inconvenience of a marriage?" I ask.

His gaze finds mine and holds it. "Nice try, wife. But that’s not happening."

Wife.

The word twists inside me. The meaning had always been something sacred to me, but he’s tarnished it.

His eyes drift down my body, and I suddenly become aware of what I'm wearing.

Or more accurately, what I'm not wearing.

My T-shirt barely reaches my belly button, and my panties are tiny. I’m not even wearing a bra. Just cotton and skin, a whole lot of bare skin on full display.

I didn’t exactly think I’d run into my husband when I climbed out of bed. The penthouse was quiet and still. A T-shirt and panties seemed like a safe bet.

His gaze drops down my legs and back up again, and I don't miss the flex of his jaw. Or the slow curl of his fingers around the armrest of his chair. Or the way his throat moves when he swallows.

Or how that slow gaze makes my skin feel warm and flushed and … good.

“Well, now that I know you’re not dead, I will leave you in peace,” I say, backing out of the room.

He smiles, and those dimples reappear. “Your concern for my welfare is touching.”

“It’s not concern. If you die, someone worse will probably take over, and I’m really not in the mood to break in another husband.”

I notice a spot of blood on his shirt sleeve, and a cold rush pebbles my skin.

For a second, I thought I saw something almost human in him.

But that blood reminds me of who I am married to.

A monster capable of terrible things.

19

DANTE