Page 86 of Guarded King

My heart squeezes at the thought of him thinking badly of Dad. “It was just the two of us, and he had to paint to keep money coming in,” I clarify. “But Mom leaving out of the blue like that shook him. He lost his creative spark for a while and sales started to drop off. We didn’t have a safety net, so I got an after-school job to help out and I took over the things he wasn’t so good at, like managing the bills and organizing day-to-day things.”

“And that’s when you gave up on your dream?”

Chest tightening, I shake my head. “That’s not how I think about it. I was a teenager, with a teenager’s dreams. I figured out my priorities earlier than most, that’s all.”

“And what are those?” His tone is laced with a grittiness I don’t understand.

I raise my chin, unsure if he’s judging me. “Having a stable job with a steady income and making sure I can look after the people I love. What’s the point of following your dreams if it means leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces?”

His lips thin. “That explains a lot.”

I search his expression. “What does it explain?”

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin of my neck. “Why you’re so mature for your age.”

The heat of his touch sparks a sudden rush of boldness within me. After all that’s happened between us, after the conversation we’ve just had, I’m feeling equal parts vulnerable and reckless. Add in the brandy, his scent, his sheerpresence, and I’m riding high on a heady combination of emotions.

I slant my head to the side, my hair sweeping over the bare skin of my arm. “So not too young after all.”

His eyes rake over me, darkening as they go. “You’re still too young.”

My pulse shoots into overdrive. He’s not talking about the job.

“You just said I was mature for my age.”

Gripping my chin, he tilts my face up to his. His scrutiny has warmth blooming in my cheeks. The urge to step into him is a wild beat behind my ribs. To see how he’d respond if I went up on my toes and pressed my mouth to his.

The bar around us fades and a shiver racks through me as I imagine him wrapping my hair in his fist the way he did in the elevator.

In response, that too familiar muscle leaps in his jaw. “Don’t,” he growls.

I deliberately wet my lips, my heartbeat detonating in my ears. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” My voice comes out breathless.

“Like you want me to taste you as much as I fucking want to.”

A tingling sensation rushes through me, my nipples tightening into hard little points. What the hell has gotten intome? Whatever it is, I’m too lost to the moment to care. “What if I do?”

Eyes hooded, he leans in. “You want me to taste you, Chloe?”

Oh god. My core clenches at the dark way he says those words, and I think a little moan escapes me.

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He slips his free hand down my arm to my waist, then lower, curling it around my hip.

He drags his thumb over my lips in a way that, if I still had any lipstick on, would have smeared it. “Is this where you want me to taste you, sweetheart?” Before I can even begin to formulate an answer, he gathers up the hem of my dress until he’s touching bare skin, his palm hot against my thigh, fingers skimming so close to my panties he can probably tell how wet I am right now. “Or is it here?”

“Roman.” I don’t know what I’m pleading for, but my whole body is on fire. I’ve never been so desperate to be touched.

For a second, his eyes flash, his expression turns feral, and both of his hands tighten on me. Then, abruptly, he lets me go and steps back.

The loss is so sudden it causes me to sway.

He turns to face the bar, picks up his whiskey, and downs half of it. “It’s late. You should probably go to bed. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”

My heart lodges itself in my throat. How can he just switch off like that? My body is still humming, the rasp of my dress too much against my sensitized skin. It takes a moment, but finally, reality crashes over me like a wave of icy water. What was I thinking, basically propositioning my boss in the middle of a bar? My boss who’s already made it clear he wants to keep our relationship professional only, despite our obvious mutual attraction.