Page 38 of The Pawn

He raises his eyebrows and when I don’t pull away, he turns my hand palm up and brushes his thumb over the center of it then up along my wrist.

I draw in a sharp breath at the sensation, the feather light touch.

“You don’t know what I did,” I say, meeting the forest green of his eyes which are watching me through thick black lashes.

“What do you mean?”

I lick my lips, open my mouth to tell him. My heart beats harder and I feel myself flush.

“I—”

“Allegra.”

I practically jump out of my seat when I turn to find Cassian standing a few feet away watching us. I jerk my hand out of Jet’s wondering how long he’s been standing there.

Jet stands. Cassian watches him get to his feet. “What are you doing, Jet?”

“Just giving Allegra her notebook back.” He gestures to the book on my lap.

Cassian turns to me. He looks skeptical. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted some tea.”

“When I’m not here, someone will get you tea or whatever else you want. I told you that. We had an agreement.”

“She needed a change of scene, Cassian. You can’t keep her locked up in your room forever,” Jet says, climbing down the steps.

Cassian’s eyes narrow and he takes a step toward Jet. “She wasn’t locked up.”

“Figure of speech.”

“No figure of speech I’ve ever heard.”

“Relax. I gave her her notebook. That’s all.”

Cassian’s hands fist at his sides and his eyes narrow. He takes another step toward Jet, and I push the blanket off to stand.

“Cassian—”

“Why were you touching her?”

“Stop it,” I say, stepping between them, facing Cassian. “He wasn’t touching me.”

“I have eyes in my head, Allegra. I know what I saw,” he says, those eyes locked on Jet.

Jet, for his part, doesn’t back down. The silence is taut, tension in the room crackling.

“Stop fighting,” I say. “You aren’t the enemies here.”

“Stay out of this Allegra.” Cassian says, moving me to the side. “Why were you touching her?”

Jet shakes his head and steps closer to Cassian. “We were having a private conversation. Or do you not allow her those?”

That is so the wrong thing to say and he knows it. “Cassian, that’s not what he means. He…” I don’t get a chance to finish, though. I expect Cassian to lunge at Jet, grab him by the throat, throttle him. Aggression is rolling off him, the air is taut with it, crackling with energy.

“You want her.” Cassian says to Jet. “But she is not for you. I thought I made that clear.”

Jet doesn’t deny it and I turn to look at him and I know, don’t I, that it’s true? I know and when I look at Jet, his want is written on his face.