Possible? How could she not know it was possible? She was a soulceress. Souls were her stock in trade.
She scooted forward in her chair and reached out a trembling hand to touch him. He shuddered when he felt the warmth of her hand against the side of his neck. It radiated through him, a brand that felt as though it would last forever. Unable to help himself, he reached up and pressed her hand against his unnaturally cold skin, reveling in the warmth of her.
He watched warily as her gaze searched his face and then traveled down his body to settle at his feet.
“So that’s why,” she murmured.
Cold returned to him when she withdrew her hand. He wanted to reach out and snatch it back, but resisted. He was stronger than that. He’d borne this alone for centuries, as he deserved to. Just because she now knew didn’t mean that he needed her any more than he had before he’d told her.
“Why, what?” he asked, grateful when her gaze returned to his. Maybe she’d see more than he wanted her to, but the connection he’d formed with her by revealing his true self provided desperately needed oxygen in an airless world. He could breathe better just by catching her gaze with his own.
“Your shadows don’t stick to you. They’re from the people you’ve killed, aren’t they?”
He nodded once, a sharp jerk of his head that connected to his heart and pulled at it the way it did every time he thought of that long-ago night. His cousins hadn’t deserved the death he’d delivered with a joyful heart, and now, because he’d sold his soul, the evil deed didn’t even have a way to haunt him properly.
“You have no soul for them to cling to, so they hover around your feet. I always wondered why that was.”
Not knowing what to say, he downed the rest of his whiskey. He met her eyes as he lowered his glass, surprised to see no judgment in their depths.
Damn her. He should be judged, gods damn it, and found wanting. But in her eyes there was only curiosity. He shifted in his seat, poured another glass of whiskey, then completely ignored it in favor of staring at the complex woman sitting across from him.
“How did you lose your soul?”
The whiskey in his blood urged him to tell her, but more than that, it urged him to kiss her. Sitting across from her all night had made his blood hum. Even telling her his secrets hadn’t dimmed that. The opposite, really. It made him want to be closer to her—the only one who saw him for what he was. With every truth he told her, she saw him more clearly. First with her innate ability, then with the truths that spilled from his lips.
Her ability to see the truth of him had once unsettled him. It still did, but in a different way.
“How about another hand of cards?” He needed to change the subject before she changed too much of him. Being alone, presenting his facade to the world, was the way he’d learned to cope. She slowly peeled his facade away, but what would she find when she finished? What would he find?
She looked askance at him, obviously questioning his tactics in changing the subject, but agreeing nonetheless. “I don’t know. What are the stakes?”
“They ought to be higher, aye?”
She nodded warily, obviously still wanting to pry more information out of him.
“You win, I answer a question. I win, I get a kiss.” Had he just said that?
Aye, a kiss would distract her from her questions, and him from his painful musings. With bated breath, he watched her, wondering what she would say.
“Seriously?” Esha said, thrill and shock competing within her, each eager to be the victor.
He was trying to distract her. That was it. And it was working. With a shaking hand, she added her cards to the pile and shuffled them, embarrassed to see the deck falter in her hands.
She looked up from the cards, stunned to see the sincerity in his face. He’d had a couple of glasses of whiskey, sure, but not enough to affect a man as big as he.
He actually wanted to kiss her. But then, he had in the past as well. It was her species that repelled him. He objected to what she was, not what she could do to him with a kiss.
“I don’t know if I want a kiss from you anymore.” I definitely do.
He made her crazy. Made her cry and be all weird and emotional and feel too much. It sucked and inevitably led to dangerous places where hearts were broken. Except, he had bared his soul to her. Told her truths that she doubted he’d ever told anybody. That had to count for something.
“I can make you want it.” His voice rumbled low, sending a shiver through her.
She reached down and sank her fingers into the Chairman’s fur, desperate to ground herself and steel her heart against Warren’s eyes, which tracked her movements with a heat that burned her to the core.
Slowly, he reached for the cards held loosely in her hand, his fingers brushing hers as he took the deck. She stifled a gasp at the spark that traveled up her arm. The Chairman stalked out of the room, clearly wanting no part of what he sensed was coming.
She watched Warren deal the cards, his big hands deft on the little rectangles