“It’s not.” I lifted the dagger to his neck. “Truly.”
“Do you remember what happened the last time you held a dagger to my throat?” His fingertips touched my cheek and slid lower, over my jaw. “I do.”
A lick of pleasure followed his fingers. “That was a temporary loss of sanity.”
“That’s my favorite kind.” He dragged his fingers down my throat and over the line of my collarbone. “I really do like these straps.”
“I really don’t care.”
His fingers slipped under it as his hand curved on my shoulder. “You lie so sweetly.”
I ignored that. “Casteel—”
“But not as sweetly as you say my name.”
I let out a little growl. “You are…”
“Marvelous? Charming? Undeniable?”
“Increasingly annoying.”
“But you still haven’t used that dagger at my neck.”
“I’m trying to think of the people who will have to clean up the mess.”
“How thoughtful of you.” He toyed with the strap. “Have I told you that you’re beautiful?”
“What?” The shift in conversation threw me.
“I might have, but I couldn’t remember if I did,” he went on, tugging gently on the strap. “Then I thought that it wasn’t something you could say too often. You’re beautiful, Poppy.”
My stupid, stupid heart skipped. “Is that why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“You’re beautiful.” His head tilted, and I gasped at the feel of his lips on the longer scar of my cheek. He kissed that one and then the shorter one, above my eye. “Both halves, and you should never question why anyone would find you utterly, irrevocably, and distractingly beautiful.”
The skipping was back, but I ignored it. “That is a lot of adjectives.”
“I can come up with more.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I advised. “So, now that you’ve told me this, you can get off me.”
He smiled against my cheek. “But you’re comfortable, Princess, and you make me feel…well, you just make me feel.”
What did I make him feel? Lust? Amusement? Entertained? The urge to read him was hard to ignore. “That’s not a reason.”
“That’s the only reason.”
Irritation pricked at my skin even as his breath danced over my lips and his fingers skimmed the outer swell of my breast. “Well, good for you, but I don’t need you to be here.”
“See, that’s the problem.” His voice dropped to a whisper as his hand slid over the silk of the gown. The material was so thin, it served no barrier against the brand of his palm. “You don’t need me.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”
“But…” Casteel’s lips glanced off mine, causing my breath to hitch as his hand slipped under the blanket and over my hip. His fingers reached bare skin, and a rush of damp heat pooled. “But you want me.”
Muscles coiled tight in my stomach and then lower as I pressed the sharp edge of the blade to his throat, nicking his skin. “Not now,” I told him.
Undaunted by the knife, he lowered his mouth. And when he spoke, his lips played over mine. “I can sense your arousal, Princess.”
There was no denying that. I could lie all I wanted, but it didn’t change that it took effort not to lift my hips against his, to not think of how he’d felt earlier, thick and hard inside me. But the wound in my chest from what I’d realized was still there, and the memory of how shockingly painful it was to think he’d already been engaged had been a warning I needed to heed before I lost sight of what was important.
“Just because my body wants you, doesn’t mean any other part of me does.”
“Then maybe we should pretend more?” he offered, his fingers drifting closer to where I ached. If he reached that area, I knew I would be lost.
It wasn’t that he had that kind of power. It was that my desire for him did.
“Or maybe we stop pretending,” he said. “I liked that better, to be honest.”
So did I, but what was real to us was different.
Heart thumping, I tilted my head back. My lips touched his as I said, “Since you’ll be home soon, I’m sure there are other beds you could visit that don’t require you to pretend. I’m sure they’re probably numerous. But you could always start with Gianna’s.”