Page 36 of Road Trip With a Rogue

His composure was impressive, considering.

“I did.” Her lips curved in triumph. “I warned you not to underestimate me.”

“You did indeed.”

He didn’t seem appropriately concerned, so she added a little more pressure, and his eyes darkened even more. Her heart began to pound.

“I love how sneaky you are, Dorothea.” The heat of him was irresistible.

“Daisy,” she growled.

“It makes me want to kiss you.” He leaned forward,intothe blade, accepting the sting so their lips were almost touching.

“I’ll cut you,” she warned, even as her body tingled with anticipation.

His warm breath skated over her lips. “Worth it.”

He closed the distance before she could disagree. His lips pressed hers, hard and warm, and for a split second she let herself melt into the kiss.

And then he moved like lightning. One moment he was kissing her, the next, she was flat on her back, his fingers pinning both her wrists to the bed, his hard body on top of hers.

Daisy gave a howl of frustration at how quickly he’d gained the advantage.

“Bastard! Let me up.” Violence and desire had her almost burning up.

His laughter made her buck furiously against him, but that only served to inflame her even more. Her thighs cradled his hardness and his chest pressed down on hers, and she could only be glad that the coverlet provided a barrier between them.

She stilled, recognizing the futility of trying to make him move before he was ready and angry with herself forfalling for such an obvious distraction. She’d been stupidly complacent.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with laughter. He gave her wrists a little warning squeeze, but she didn’t release her blade, stubborn to the last.

“Nice knife. Where did you get it?”

“From an admirer,” she growled. “An Italian thief.”

“Whatever happened to giving a girl a nice bouquet of flowers?”

She glared up at him. “I prefer the blade.”

“Such a violent little thing.” He made it sound like an endearment.

His gaze flicked down to her lips, and she tensed, half hoping he meant to kiss her again, but he rolled to the side instead, easing his weight off her slowly, releasing her. She sat up, rubbing her wrists even though he hadn’t hurt her at all.

He slid off the bed and stood, looking down at her, and lifted his fingers to the side of his throat, just beneath his jaw. “First blood to you.”

A smear of red coated his fingertips. He angled his chin and glanced in the mirror to inspect the damage, and her heart gave an odd lurch at the sight of the thin cut she’d inflicted on his skin.

His lips curved, as if he found the injury amusing. “Pax?”

She made a point of placing her knife on the bedside table within easy reach. “Are you going to give my other knives back?”

“Eventually. When I’m satisfied you’re not going to use them on me. Truce?”

She nodded, still grouchy. “Fine. Yes. Truce.”

For now.

Lucien tried not to laugh at the furious color that bloomed in Daisy’s cheeks. She looked delicious, her eyes sparking at him, her chest rising and falling in aggravation beneath her shirt.