Page 55 of The Hunter

We both stopped ourselves, and I motioned. “You first.”

She gave me a sincere smile, at complete odds with the forced one I’d seen her wear these past several months.

“I wanted to apologize for the book.” She chewed on her lower lip before lifting her eyes back to mine. “I could tell it was…personal. I thought maybe it would tell me something about you. About who you are underneath all this.” She gestured vaguely, like the layers of walls I’d built were something she could see.

“Why do you care?” I asked, sharper than I meant.

She didn’t flinch. “Because you intrigue me.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

My body moved instinctively toward her, betraying every rational thought I’d clung to for days. Now that I was mere inches away, I could smell the citrus in her shampoo, the faint spice of the pasta still clinging to the air between us.

“I’m not a good man,” I said roughly.

She didn’t retreat. Didn’t back down. If anything, my admission made her double her efforts.

“I don’t believe that.” Her lashes fluttered as her eyes searched mine.

I laughed, low and bitter. “You should.”

“I know bad people. And you, Henry Fontaine…” She moved closer still, “aren’t a bad person.”

“I’m holding you captive,” I reminded her, unsure if it was more for her benefit or mine.

“If you were truly the monster you claim to be, I wouldn’t be standing here. You wouldn’t let me sleep in a soft bed or roam freely around the house. You’d keep me locked in some cold room with just scraps to eat. So no. I don’t believe you’re a monster.”

She craned her head back, close enough that if I moved an inch, our mouths would brush. Her lips were parted, breath shallow, her chest rising and falling in a quicker pattern.

My hand twitched, ready to reach for her. My eyes roamed over her mouth, pink and soft and so damn close. Heat swelled in my gut, dark and hungry. I licked my lips, starving for a taste of her forbidden fruit.

“Say it again,” I rasped, my jaw tight with barely restrained need.

She didn’t have to ask what I meant. She knew. As if she had a window into my mind.

She inched her lips even closer. “You are not a monster, Henry Fontaine.”

I nearly broke.

The need to touch her, toconsumeher, was overwhelming. Every second I remained a breath away from her made it worse. My fingers twitched, desperate to pull her against me. To shove her against the wall and bury myself in her until I couldn’t remember why I was supposed to hate her.

She was the wife of my enemy. A distraction. A pawn.

But right now, I didn’t give a fuck aboutwhoshe was. Or the fact that she was only a few years older than Sarah. All I cared about was these feelings she brought out of me.

I dipped my head lower, my lips tingling with the promise of her kiss.

Suddenly, a loud beeping ripped through the space. I jerked back, snapping out of the spell she so easily cast over me, like the siren she was. Pulling my phone from my pocket with trembling fingers, I read the alert from the security cameras in place around the property.

Motion detected. Perimeter Camera 4.

“Is everything okay?”

I looked at Ariana, and all I saw staring back at me was weakness.

Myweakness.