Page 9

Where was the usual hilarious expression he adopted when trying to flirt? Now, there was a different emotion there, something that I didn’t like at all.

Why wasn’t he acting ridiculous? I could see the desire lurking under the surface. But for some reason, he was trying to be someone he wasn’t.

This new Damen made me feel weak.

“Why do you look like that?” I asked. “Why aren’t you hitting on me?”

Damen blinked, shocked, but it passed. A second later, something else began to settle in its place.

And this time, when he gave me a once over, I felt the heat rise under my skin.

He looked as if he thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world, which was impossible because my hair was a mess and I was wearing a shapeless, white gown.

But it didn’t seem to matter.

He leaned forward, trapping me between the headboard and his arms. My heart raced because this was it. I was so excited. He was going to say something stupid and cheesy, and then everything would be normal!

“You like it when I flirt with you?” he asked, his breath brushing over my ear.

My pulse raced, and I was melting. “W-we have an agreement!”

Damen froze. The hesitance began to creep back into his expression as he began to lean back. “That isn’t what I asked.”

My blood turned to ice as the look in his eyes began to shift, and the self-loathing was heavy in his expression.

What was his problem? Did he think I was angry? I was very rude when I’d told him to leave me alone at the hospital.

He was wrong—I wasn’t mad. Dear God, I had forgotten how sensitive he could be. He must have been wallowing in despair over my callous words.

I had to rescue his fragile self-esteem.

I gripped his sleeve, and my face grew warm. “I like it when you flirt,” I whispered. “We’ve talked about this already! I like it when you pay attention to me.”

Damen froze, his eyes meeting mine once again. “You do?” he asked.

His confidence grew with every second, and a smile began to touch the corners of his mouth. He covered my hand with his. “You really like it when I ‘pay attention to you,’ baby girl?”

The purr was back in this voice, causing my pulse to soar .

His focus moved to my mouth, and the room temperature continued to rise.

I wasn’t sure what he saw, but his grin grew wider. “You do!”

He leaned in, pushing me against the head of the bed. My hands were trapped between our chests, and I had to crane my neck to look at him. My mouth went dry under the pressure of his gaze.

“You’re not scared of me at all,” he said.

Scared?

I wasn’t so sure about that. When he did these things, my heart raced, and it became harder to breathe.

I had no idea why I wanted him to flirt with me.

His antics were something I both loved and hated.

But when his eyes held mine—when he was paying attention to me and only me—I couldn’t deny it thrilled me.

But why did Julian—and now he—both ask the same question?

“You’re incredibly brave,” Damen continued. “That’s good. You have to be if you want to play with fire.”

Bravery had nothing to do with anything. It was more likely that I had brain damage. I was about to tell him so when there was a knock at the door.

Instantly, his scorching expression vanished, and he pulled away. I hid my inflamed face in my knees as Damen went to speak to someone outside the room once more.

I’d only just gotten my breath under control when the scent of food drifted toward me.

I peeked up to see Damen seated at the foot of the bed. A covered tray rested on a small cart beside me. I had been so flustered I hadn’t even noticed him wheel it into the room.

I frowned at the tray. “What’s this? ”

“Lunch,” Damen said, his expression guarded—a stark difference from a moment ago. “I know you haven’t been eating.”

That explained how long I’d been asleep; there was no good way to tell time here. It did not surprise me that Damen would try to feed me prison food.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

Damen’s lips thinned as he studied me over his glasses. There was an appraising glint in his eyes. “You need to eat. I know you like food, and I won’t sneak you in snacks like Julian. He’s been coddling you too much.”

“Who doesn’t like food?” I retorted, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “And don’t say that. Julian doesn’t coddle me.”

“There’s a difference between coddling and being encouraging, and he’s blurring that line.

” Damen was frowning, his steel eyes seeing right through me.

“He’s afraid to push you right now, but don’t get used to it.

He won’t always be like this. He knows he’s wrong, and he has a limit.

Meanwhile, someone with some sense needed to come here and make you eat. ”

I gasped. He was so wrong. “You can’t make me eat!” I told him. “You don’t know what they’re doing to it. I’d rather die than eat poison!”

The words were barely spoken before Damen was in front of me. He grabbed my wrists, pulling me closer to him. Gone was the calculating look in his eyes, panic in its place.

“Don’t joke about that,” he said, his words jilted.

“I’m not joking.” I tried to pull my wrists away, but his grip didn’t let up. It should have scared me, but his pushiness made me angrier. “It’s not any of your business if I die or not. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want.”

The banked fury in Damen’s eyes flared to life, and he released my hands only to grab my shoulders instead. “It’s not my business?” he asked. There was something powerful in his voice I’d never heard before. But instead of scaring me, the sound caused my toes to curl.

“It is my business!” he continued. “You’re the most important person in my world. You always have been. I would be completely destroyed if something were to happen to you. You need to take care of yourself.”

I knew his words had a deeper meaning, but it escaped me. All I could focus on was his hands—large and hot against my skin. I was suddenly urged to do something about it, but I had no idea what. Frustration pooled in my stomach.

I didn’t care who was mad at me anymore. I was tired. Tired of everyone taking away my choices. Tired of everyone telling me what to do. And I was so tired of people lying to me.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I could scarcely breathe.

I had to do something. I needed to touch him. I didn’t second-guess myself and grabbed the front of his shirt. The fabric bunched in my fists, Damen’s furious expression fell, and the tension in his arms lessened, but it was too late. I didn’t care anymore.

And before I could talk myself out of it, I took advantage of his surprise to jerk him to me.