Page 37 of Crown Of Blood

“What?”

“Laugh.”

Her expression softens, guarded but curious. “And you should stop pretending you don’t like it when I do.”

I shift closer, eyes still on hers. “You assume too much.”

“Do I?”

She tilts her head, the movement slight but electric. The tension between us stretches so tight it feels like breathing wrong might break it.

Her hand slides over a paper, grazing mine. Just that—skin against skin—and it’s enough to set the whole damn world spinning.

She pulls back, but not far enough. “We make a good team,” she whispers.

“Dangerous combination,” I reply.

Her lips curve slightly. “You don’t scare me, Dante.”

“I should.”

“I know.” She leans back, eyes still on mine. “But you don’t.”

The silence after that isn’t comfortable. It’s alive.

By the time the clock nears midnight, she’s fighting sleep. Her head tilts, chin dipping forward. The pen slips from her fingers.

“Bella.”

She hums in response, eyelids fluttering, refusing to admit how tired she is.

“Go to bed,” I say quietly.

“Not yet.”

“You’re done for tonight.”

She shakes her head stubbornly, blinking hard. “You’ll just keep working.”

“I always do.”

“That’s sad,” she mumbles, slurring with exhaustion.

“And you’re trouble,” I whisper, even softer.

She smiles faintly. “I know.”

Her head drops onto her folded arm, and she’s asleep within seconds.

I watch her for longer than I should. The fire between us is still burning, even with her asleep—maybe because she’s asleep. Because the fight is gone and all that’s left is quiet.

I take the blanket from the chair and drape it over her shoulders. She shifts in her sleep, murmuring something I can’t catch.

“Goodnight, Bella,” I murmur.

Chapter 11

Iwake to sunlight spilling across my face and the faint clack of a keyboard.