I got it.
I just wasn’t sure why he wanted to share it with me.
The only thing I knew was I felt his attention like a landslide when I stepped out from behind the seclusion of the hall and into the main room.
Logan looked up from where he stood at the end of the island typing something on his phone.
The man was so disgustingly gorgeous in his fitted suit.
Intimidating.
Jaw-dropping.
Those eyes flashed as they took me in.
Copper and green.
Stony.
Malachite.
Though tonight they were far from opaque.
They glinted in the flames that leapt in the fireplace.
Scorching rocks that could sear me through.
Fiddling with the hem of my sweater, I glanced down at what I’d chosen. “Is this okay?”
“It will do.” His tone was grit.
He pushed from the island and came my way.
A slow prowl, a monster testing its prey.
He stopped a foot away, and he tipped up my chin, deceptively soft. “They say the devil is so beautiful you wouldn’t be able to look at him if you saw him in his original form.”
My insides quaked. I was pretty sure he had our roles reversed.
“And you have a hard time looking at me.” Still, I let him have the perception.
I ached that he was right there, so close I could touch him, though I knew how dangerous it would be if I did.
He leaned closer, his presence destroying all sense, his voice a rough scrape he released at my ear. “The fucking problem is I can’t seem to look away.”
A whimper crawled my throat and chills flashed across my skin.
He inclined closer. “Is that what you are, Aster? The devil? Here to tempt me? Lead me into sin?”
“Ironic since that’s what I’d always thought about you.”
When it’d come to Logan Lawson, I’d always done the exact opposite of what was expected of me.
His thumb caressed the length of my cheek, the hard, chiseled angle of his jaw clenched.
In restraint.
In disgust.