Soulbound (Darkest London 6) - Page 16

“Lean forward, if you can, and let me see to the rest.”

With a muffled grunt, he complied, tilting his big body towards her. She was able to reach around his neck and drape the cloth along his shredded shoulders. So set was she upon her task that she did not consider how close she’d brought herself to the man. Not until the heat of his breath ghosted along her neck.

Every hair upon her body stood on end, and she froze, aware of her own breath and of the way her breasts brushed against his chest. She dared not turn to meet his gaze. It did not matter. Awareness lit between them. Of his cheek and hers mere inches apart. Of his scent, that delicious amber and myrrh scent. It had her eyes fluttering, wanting to close if only to heighten her sense of smell. He made a small, strangled sound, barely audible, and yet it struck the core of her.

Get away. Get away now! But she could not.

Unwanted and uninvited heat coalesced between her legs and spread outward, up her torso and down her thighs. Her eyes closed then, as she held herself very still for fear of leaning closer and pressing her now heavy breasts against him. And it disgusted her. She could not be attracted to this man. Not him. Anyone but him.

The sound of his indrawn breath and the feel of his lips brushing her neck had her eyes snapping open. Her body tensed further.

“Are you…” – she swallowed past a wave of heat – “smelling me?”

He was silent for a moment. “Aye.” Defiance shaped his tone, and then it went husky as he inhaled again. “Aye, dove. I cannot resist. Your sweetness is a ray of sunshine in this hell.”

Craning his neck forward, he drew in another deep breath, and a low, rumbling groan escaped him. “Gods, but I could drown in the scent of you and not be sorry for it.”

The realization that she’d nearly arched her neck to give him better access finally snapped her out of her heated fog. Eliza reared back. And Adam regarded her through lowered lids, not at all repentant, but as if daring her to come back to him.

“That is enough,” she said, wishing the words came out steady and firm. “I’m not here to —”

“Get me off?” he supplied lightly, a wicked gleam entering his pale amber eyes.

She gritted her teeth. “Yes, that.”

He mocked a shrug but then winced. “Fair enough, sweeting. But as you continue to ease my pain, while ignoring the place I need soothing most, I cannot help thinking you mean to tease me.” His hips shifted the slightest bit.

The urge to slap him was high, but Eliza sank into herself where it was calm and nothing could affect her. She’d learned that from him. Nothing like being chained to a man to teach a woman about self-preservation. When she spoke, her voice was a shard of ice. “You’re trying to drive me off, aren’t you?”

He seemed to flinch in surprise before sagging a bit. “Yes.” Mulishly, his gaze slid away before returning with renewed defiance. “Though I did not lie. Your scent is an addiction. I want more of it.”

No, she would not react. “And yet you want me to leave.”

At this, he let out an exasperated snort. “Gods, woman, can you no’ get it through your head? If they find you with me, you’ll be in a world of trouble. As will I.” His outstretched arms tensed as though he was straining to break free. “What I cannot understand is why you keep returning. Is it amusing you to see me this way?”

“What? No.”

“Have you a death wish then?”

“No.” Her hands fisted her skirts. “I —”

“What?” he snapped when she hesitated. “Out with it, girl.”

“Do not bark at me! Nor am I a girl.”

Adam paused his attack.

For a long moment, they simply glared at each other. And then the wind went out of Eliza’s sails. “I cannot live amongst these people and keep my sanity.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said yet.”

She found herself fighting a smile. “Surely not the very first.”

He clearly fought one as well. “I’ll concede. You’ve said a few more.”

Eliza laughed, short and soft. Then she looked away, a sudden burning in her eyes making her fear she’d soon weep. And she abhorred weeping. “There is a man. He… his…” Hell, she hated to even say the bastard’s name. “His name is Mellan.”

Adam’s swift intake of breath had her turning back to him. He’d gone bone white, his lips peeled back in a macabre sneer. His eyes hid nothing, not to her at least.

“You know this man, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Not when he wore that look.

“Yes.” Adam’s sneer turned to a snarl. “He’s a right, ruddy bastard. The question is, how do you know him, lass?”

Her icy fingers clenched. “I knew him in Boston. I – my grandfather Aiden died. I didn’t have a dime…” She trailed off, disgust and hot humiliation writhing within. “Ah, well, you know such tales, I suppose. I needed safety and security.”

“And you sold yourself. To him.” Adam’s words whipped like a lash.

Eliza glared at him. “He pretended to care, wanted to be my protector. I was naive and foolish.” It was a sad testament that she’d rather Adam believe she’d sold her body than confess the reality of what Mellan had her do. There were worse things than being a whore. “Before I knew it, he claimed that he owned me.” Eliza pinned Adam with a stare. “Sound familiar?”

Tags: Kristen Callihan Darkest London Romance
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