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“My mother. When she saw how empty and plain the place was, she took over. Made her happy.” Interesting. A momma’s boy, perhaps?

He goes over to the fireplace and tosses in a few pieces of wood, lighting them. A breeze floats through the air, and I shiver. The clothes sticking to my body are getting heavy and thick in an uncomfortable way. My boots squish with each step, so I slide them off, pressing my cold wet feet to the floor. I wander over to the window, my toes sinking into a plush black rug with intricate artsy details.

The city is hazy in the sheets of rain, kind of like we’re in the clouds looking down on it like gods. Rain beats on the glass pane. Little streams of water slide down and out of sight.

“Enigmatic.” Aedon’s voice is husky.

“It is,” I agree, touching my fingertips to the cool glass tentatively. I look over at him, and he’s watching me.

His gaze makes me warm and tingly. “Doesn’t look like the rain will let up any time soon.”

“A pity,” I murmur.

“I’ll get you some clothes.” He sizes me up for a moment before disappearing around the corner.

“I don’t really want to wear the left behind clothing of your past conquests,” I yell out.

“You make it sound like that’s something to be proud of,” he calls back. I follow his voice down a dark hallway and find an open door about halfway down.

I lean against the frame and watch him. He’s got sweatpants and a shirt in his hands. The walls are a light gray, and there’s a large bed in the middle covered with a blood red duvet made of crushed velvet, like the couch. It’s settled in front of a dark walnut headboard. The room is clean and organized, just like the rest of the place.

“But isn’t there? Isn’t that what you’re doing with me? Treating me like some girl you brought home from the club?” I’m taunting him, but I’m feeling fucking bold.

He rocks back on his heels smirking. “You want me to act bored?”

“You act bored?”

He strides over to me in a few large steps. “You want to know how I treat other women? I don’t have a conversation; I definitely don’t take them to my favorite shitty bar; and I certainly don’t seek out their sister so I can take them on a date.”

I look at him hovering above me, his chest dangerously close to mine. “Then what are you doing with me?”

“If you wanted me to spell it out for you all you had to do was ask.”

“Spell it out for me then.”

He huffs with amusement. “You aren’t like anyone I’ve met before. You’re intelligent and cunning. You are unbelievably frustrating. Something about you just makes me feel insane. I couldn’t act bored if I tried, love.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He caresses my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone. “Calling you what, love?” he says lightly.

I suck in a breath, and he bares his teeth in a wicked grin. His palm slides down my neck, over my chest, stopping over the buttons to my jeans. My body yearns for him. Actually yearns. I tell myself it’s because I haven’t been laid in a while, and I no longer have work as an outlet, but really, I want to connect with him. Be connected to him. Maybe for eternity. I don’t know because I’m so fucking turned on. Every bit of revulsion toward the crown drains from my body. I lean into his hovering hand.

“Losing your nerve?” I try to sound taunting, but it comes out as a breathy remark.

“Would this be a mistake?” he asks.

“You didn’t think it was last time.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.” He’s giving me a taste of my own medicine in the worst possible way.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “What are the terms?”

He slides his hand past my zipper and cups my pussy over my jeans. “That you don’t disappear again. I want to be able to find you, Jos.”

The way he’s shortened my name is personal and sexy. Not Josephine. Not Josie. Just Jos.

“Okay,” I manage to choke out. I would agree to burn alive just because of the way he growls my name.