Selara's POV
"Will you open your eyes now?" He teased.
For another moment, I did nothing but expect the sting, my teeth already jarring against each other in expectation of the pain. But it never came. I snapped my eyes apart when I felt the silky trail on my arm.
I glanced down to find him brushing his gloved finger over my arm, and the aching rush of my heartbeat calmed.
I exhaled with relief, letting calm wash through the whole of my chest. "So you are wearing a glove,"
"Yes," he muttered. "Of course, I wouldn't dare do otherwise and hurt my mate."
Then we stayed like that, his face a few inches from mine, lips curling in a somewhat satisfied grin.
Another second of staring right into his grin, and I realized we were close, too fucking close. I gasped softly, and I tried to push him away from me, but he wouldn't budge. He stood his ground, and considering that he was bigger and stronger than me, I couldn't win.
"Let me go, Darian," I yelled, struggling to break away from his grip on my waist.
"Swear to hell, you don't feel the same thing I am feeling right now as we stand this close." He asked, completely changing the subject.
"That has nothing to do with."
He traced his gloved finger over my exposed arm again, his other hand firm on my waist. "Tell me you don't feel any ounce of desire now as I touch you, Selara."
I snatched away my arm, yet that still didn't stop the tingle that snaked up my skin even as I pulled my hand away. It felt like a ripple of electricity shooting through me.
"I don't feel a thing, Darian, so you can stop all this—"
"Stop what?" He grinned, already sensing my skepticism. The spark grew in his eyes until it was so teasing that I had to accept the truth, at least within me. That perhaps the biting force swimming at the rung of my belly meant something more than it should, that the fact that my chest kept heaving heavily, my heart slamming hard against it from the inside, the more we stayed so close meant something, that the fact that a wild portion of myself wanted this to last longer.
Perhaps I do desire him, but I was wise enough to know that it wasn't enough, and a relationship between us was going to end in pure doom. He was just the kind of man I hated. Overconfident, rebellious, cunning, roguish, untrustworthy, and with an air of arrogance that could pump up an air balloon.
"I can assure you I feel nothing," I said. I tried to sound sure, sound like I mean every word, but sometimes your own voice can find a way of betraying you.
He cocked a brow up, a playful smile tugging his lips. "Are you sure?"
He leaned closer, his breath warming my nose more, his grin growing.
His fingers brushed my skin again, and like before, that same ripple of electricity raced up my skin.
I snatched my arm away again. "Don't touch me," I snapped.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I don't want you to."
He chuckled. "If you don't want me to, then why haven't you broken away from me?"
He glanced down, guiding my eyes lower to show me he had released my waist.
I had no damn idea when he did.
I forced a nervous smile. "I didn't know," I muttered. I slid down the wall and away from his grip.
Once I was away from his grip, I let out all the air gathered in my chest. They roared off me as one loud exhale.
It took every effort to control my breath so he wouldn't notice, but when I looked up, the mischievous tweak to his smile told me he did. The bastard. "Just what are you trying to prove with all these, Darian?"
He walked back to the armchair and threw his big self into its waiting arms. "I am not trying to prove anything. I was just showing you the truth."
"That you can now touch me with a gloved hand." I retorted. My sarcasm was poor, but it was the best my brain could produce under the circumstances. His stare was so direct and intense I couldn't look away, and for some stupid reason, my rising heart beat refused to relax completely because of it.
"No," he said, flexing his hand on the armrest now. "To show you that we don't need love, we desire each other already."
"I don't desire you," I snarled.
"That doesn't seem to be the case, a while ago." He said, too calm and smug, it was downright infuriating. "I could remember vividly the way you reacted to my touch earlier. And mind you, I am wearing a glove."
The bastard. "That doesn't mean—"
The door opening robbed me of my words, but not the venom of my glare. I shared my gaze between him and the door.
Rynel stumbled in, gasping, like he had been chased. "I have found her." He screamed into the room.
I didn't care about whoever they had found until Darian jumped fast to his feet, with a speed that a sprinter would envy.
"Found who?" I demanded.
"No one of importance," Darian made me a patronizing smile, and he strode fast for the door.