Chapter 30

Kayla

I stood there, my cheeks blazing hotter than the sun, staring at the offending piece of lace dangling from Nicholas’s fingers. My panties. My lacy panties. It was mortifying enough that Jade had thrown my things into his room, but now this?

“Give me that,” I snapped, storming across the room and snatching the fabric from his grasp. I clutched it tightly in my fist, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how red my face had become.

Nicholas smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What’s the matter, Kayla? Embarrassed?”

I refused to meet his gaze, instead marching toward the nightstand where Jade had so thoughtfully piled my books. “Now that he’s gone,” I muttered, shoving the books into my arms, “I’m going back to my room.”

“Really?” His voice stopped me in my tracks. “And are you planning to move your stuff back every week for the next month?”

I froze, turning slowly to glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nicholas shrugged, looking just a little too smug for my liking. It seemed whatever momentary connection we’d had in the woods had been quickly overshadowed by his usual personality.

“The emissary said he’d be back every week,” he said. “Do you really want to go through all this trouble every time he comes? Moving your clothes, your books, your—” he gestured vaguely toward the panties still clutched in my hand— “whatever else you insist on hoarding?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious. “And what are you suggesting?”

He straightened, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Simple. Just stay here.”

“Stay here?” I repeated, incredulous. “As in… you want me to share a room with you?”

He nodded, as if it were the most logical suggestion in the world, and gestured to the enormous bed. “I’ve got a California king bed. There’s plenty of space. We can manage for a month, can’t we? Then, once the guild stops sending their nosy little emissaries, you can go back to your own room.”

I stared at him, my jaw slack. Was he actually being serious, or was he just messing with me in an attempt to get back at me?

“You can’t be serious,” I said flatly. “I’m not sharing a bed with you, Nicholas. How many women have you had in that bed, anyway?”

Nicholas began counting on his fingers, his grin widening.

“Stop it,” I growled. “You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled, dropping his hands. “Relax, Kayla. Trust me, I won’t have a need to invite anyone else into this bed while you’re here. So you don’t need to worry about that.”

I laughed bitterly, dropping my books back onto the nightstand. “Oh, how charming. You’re also implying that you’ll sleep with me to fulfill your playboy urges, are you?”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning wicked. “I wasn’t implying that, but if that’s what you want…”

I cut him off with a sharp glare. “I don’t want that. And for the record, I think it’s disgusting how easily you can separate physical intimacy from actual emotion. Unlike you, I don’t believe in jumping into bed with someone just because it’s convenient.”

He glanced at me. “Interesting, considering what our first meeting was like.”

“I was in distress,” I quipped, my face flushing. “It doesn’t count.”

He shrugged, clearly not believing me. I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed myself, either. “Fine,” he said. “But you should know that it doesn’t have to be ‘convenient’. It doesn’t even have to mean anything. Sometimes, it’s just about fun.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. “But I’m not interested in being anyone’s ‘fun,’ Nicholas. I want something real. Something meaningful. And that’s clearly something you’ll never understand.”

Nicholas tilted his head, studying me. “You really believe that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice oddly soft. “That love has to come before sex?”

“Of course I believe it,” I snapped. “I’m not going to be someone’s physical release just because they’re bored or frustrated.”

He laughed then, a low, sardonic sound that made my blood boil. “You’re such a liar, Kayla.”

“What?” I blinked, caught off guard by the accusation.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said, stepping closer, his amber eyes gleaming with something sharp and predatory. “You want me. You can’t stand me, but you want me. You still want me just as bad as you did when we met.”

“You’re wrong,” I hissed, taking a step back. “I don’t want you, Nicholas. You’re a self-serving prick, and I—”

He moved then, cutting off my words as he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. His eyes raked over me, unapologetically lingering on the curve of my waist, the slope of my neck.

“There’s no shortage of physical attraction between us,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Kayla. I haven’t forgotten the way you kissed me and put your hands all over me at the hotel. You may hate me, but don’t pretend you don’t wonder what it would have been like if we had finished our little tryst that day. Don’t you want to know what it’s like? Just out of curiosity?”

My breath caught in my throat as he leaned closer, the faint scent of his cologne filling my senses. I hated how good he smelled. I hated how my traitorous heart pounded against my ribs whenever he got this close.

“You think about it at night, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I do. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t imagined what it’d be like with you.”

“You’re rude,” I managed to choke out, but my voice wavered. Worse, I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, blooming in my cheeks.

Nicholas’s lips twitched in a faint smirk, as if he knew exactly what sort of effect he was having on me. “Your little heart pitter-patters every time I get close to you,” he said, leaning in until his breath brushed against my ear. “Just like this.”

He moved so quickly I barely had time to react, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a jolt through me all the same.

“Stop it,” I whispered, my voice trembling. But he didn’t stop. His hand lingered, brushing against my cheek before he tucked it back into his pocket.

“You’re blushing,” he pointed out, his tone infuriatingly smug.

“No, I’m not,” I shot back, but the words felt hollow. I could feel the heat radiating from my skin, betraying me no matter how hard I tried to shove it down.

“Yes, you are,” he said, stepping even closer. His hands braced against the wall on either side of me, caging me in. “And your heart’s pounding like crazy. I can feel it, you know. Through the bond.”

“Fine,” I snapped, swatting his hand away as I shoved past him. “You’re physically attractive, Nicholas. There, are you happy that I stroked your ego for you? But I don’t care how hot you are—I’m not interested in meaningless sex. I want something real, with someone who actually cares about me.”

He turned, watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. “And you think I don’t care?”

“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t. You care about power, about yourself, about what you can get out of this situation. You’re just a playboy who’s bored and sexually frustrated, and I’m not going to be the solution to that little problem of yours.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze heavy and contemplative. Then he nodded, his smirk returning. “You’re right. It is purely physical. Because if we didn’t have that physical attraction, neither of us would be able to stand each other long enough to see this arrangement through.”

His words stung, but I couldn’t exactly argue with him. We didn’t get along. We bickered constantly.

But still, I hated the way he said it. If only because I knew just how fucking right he was.

Finally, I sighed, throwing my hands up in defeat. “Fine. I’ll share the bedroom for the next month. But if you so much as lay a finger on me, I’ll split your lip on the other side.”

Nicholas’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement—and something else—as he brushed past.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, my dear.”