The Masked Fae (Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods 1) - Page 23

I draw in a sharp breath as he runs his free hand down my bare arm. When he finds my hand, he raises it to his head, guiding my fingers across the rounded top of his ear.

“You’re human,” I breathe.

“Did you think I was one of the Fae?” he asks, still holding me close.

“To be honest, I thought you might be…” I laugh to myself, too embarrassed to admit it. “Never mind. You can let go of me now.”

“And if I don’t want to?” he asks lightly, making my stomach flutter.

I suddenly remember what he said when we first met—that the only things he’s ever stolen are hearts, and if I’m not careful, he’d be tempted to steal mine. Desperate for a distraction from this strange world I’ve found myself in, just for a moment, I imagine what it would be like to be wooed by this man.

But I can’t think these sorts of thoughts about a masked bandit who refuses to give me his name.

I reluctantly pull away from him. When he doesn’t resist, I decide he is only playing anyway.

With a sigh, I look across the expanse between Lord Ambrose’s balcony and mine. “How am I going to get back?”

The bandit opens the marquis’s door. “Come on.”

I latch onto his arm, tugging him back. “You mustn’t!”

“Why mustn’t I?”

“What if we’re caught?”

“I told you—Lord Ambrose is not in.”

I hold firm. “But what if he comes back?”

“He won’t,” he says confidently. “Trust me. Have I misled you yet?”

Slowly, I drop my arm. “Fine…but be quiet.”

The bandit presses a finger to his lips, promising to stay shushed. He then motions for me to follow him.

I stop short in the marquis’s bedchamber, looking around.

“What is it?” the bandit asks, sounding a little unsettled.

“The marquis’s sister has personal touches everywhere, and she doesn’t even live in the manor. But this room…” I shrug. “It feels empty.”

The bandit looks around. “So?”

“It’s sort of sad, isn’t it?”

“Why is it sad?” he demands.

“It just seems…lonely.”

He crosses back, taking my hand to keep me moving. “It doesn’t matter whether Lord Ambrose is lonely or not, and you certainly shouldn’t trouble yourself with such things.”

Moments later, we stand outside my room in the hall.

“It’s locked.” I press my hand to my forehead, realizing this was all for naught.

The bandit gives me a strange look as he produces a key and slides it into the lock.

“Where did you get that?” I hiss as he opens the door.

Tags: Shari L. Tapscott Royal Fae of Rose Briar Woods Fantasy
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