Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
She gently pulled her hand free and stalked out of the coffee shop. She considered Lorcan’s angle. Was he trying to recruit her to his cause, or did he just hate Graves that much?
She was glad that Graves had suggested this. It was easier this time to get caught and sift through Lorcan’s supposed sincerity. Too much was on the line for Lorcan to be this close to their mission. The last thing she wanted was for him to try to interfere.
Plus, she liked that Graves laid down the same cards she did. It was always better to know where your enemy stood.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The brownstone was silent when she made it back. But the silence was no longer overwhelming or deadly. Instead, it was something good to come back to. Almost like . . . a home.
She headed up the stairs and was surprised to see Graves’s light on in the room across from his second-floor study. She’d never seen what was in the room. A part of her little thieving brain said to find out, but as interested as she was, as much as she wanted to know all his secrets, she found that she wanted him to confide those secrets in her. That learning them from him was much more satisfying.
So, she turned toward the stairs, leaving him to his night, but just as she climbed the first step, she heard the doorknob turn. And when she glanced back, Graves came out the door in nothing but a pair of black running pants.
Her breath caught. She’d never seen him undressed. Even when they’d had sex, he had been fully clothed. He’d even had his gloves on. She was regretting that decision now.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he’d been out for an evening jog. Sweat gleamed on his muscled torso, the droplets collecting in every curve and crevice of his rippled abdominals. And that tattoo was finally, finally visible. Holly vines started around his wrists and snaked up his tense, veined forearms, up the ridge of his biceps and over his shoulder to the edges of his chest. The vines constricted around the muscles, and thorns bit into his skin as if they were physically piercing the flesh. It was intricate and mesmerizing and easily the most lifelike tattoo she had ever seen.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Just the sight of him standing there made her belly dip and core pulse. She wanted him again just as she’d had him when he’d pinned her against the library shelves. Rough and ready with the monster off the leash.
But much more terrifying was the fact that she wanted him. Graves the man. Not the monster. An all-new feeling.
Graves looked up then and saw her watching. Let her watch.
She swallowed, stepping back down the stairs and facing him. “Late-night run?”
“It clears my head,” he confessed. “You’re back late.”
“I had a run-in with Lorcan,” she said, her eyes drifting lower and lower to the Adonis V at the top of his pants.
He smirked when she glanced back up at him, not self-conscious in the least. Just walking toward her and filling the space. “How did that go?”
“You were right. He doesn’t know about the spear. He bought the half truths that I fed him. I told him I was there to see a friend. He guessed we were going after Walter because he’d gone rogue.”
“Good,” Graves said, pleased. “I knew that we could use him stalking you to our advantage.”
Her eyes floated over his corded arms. The biceps that bulged and those broad shoulders. “Uh-huh.”
“You look exhausted,” he said, closing the distance.
“I am,” she admitted with a yawn. She covered her mouth and wished she could have suppressed it. She was tired, but she wouldn’t mind if he kept her up all night.
He bridged the distance, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She normally would have pulled away from that touch. Yet she didn’t pull away. More importantly, she didn’t want to pull away.
Not from Graves.
Something had shifted between them. And it wasn’t purely physical. In fact, it was terrifying mostly because they hadn’t hooked up again since that night in the library. Still, things had changed. She had grown more open. She was beginning to be able to interpret the man who was impossible to interpret. And he was looking at her . . .
God, he was looking at her as if she was something . . . precious.
Something worthy of protecting.
How long had it been since she let anyone protect her the way that Graves had? She had her friends. They would go to the ends of the earth for her, but it was always her protecting them. And Nate was family, but she watched her own back and he knew it. Even Colette, who cared for her, was looking out for herself first and foremost. It was why they had always gotten along. These were her people.