Page 17 of Fate of the Fallen
I turned toward him then, feeling emotions I didn’t understand—anger … lust.
That one, in particular, I seemed to be resisting most.
Both arms crossed my chest as I stared in defiance, but never spoke.
My lack of response made him smirk, a devilish grin that rested on his lips as he scanned the length of me. It was a sweeping look that dragged up my bare leg that peeped out from a slit in a thin, white garment, to my waist cinched by a brown, leather strip, to my chest where the material crossed before tying around my neck.
Where was I?
Or …whenwas I?
His clothing stood out to me now, too—a top with loose sleeves that hid the defined muscle just beneath them, dark pants that clung to toned thighs before disappearing inside boots the same shade.
I looked him over much like he’d done to me. The buttons of his shirt were undone, and my gaze lingered there, on the rolling hills of a tight abdomen I could practically feel against my palms.
Time seemed relative in this bizarre trance, or … dream maybe. I recalled drifting off while awaiting an update from Liam while he and the guys followed the lead to Ridge Borough, but this didn’t quite feel like a dream.
It felt real.
Two words left Liam’s mouth and I gave him every ounce of my attention. “Forgive me.”
I blinked, swallowed hard, blinked again.
“My behavior tonight was inexcusable. I saw him touch you and … I lost myself,” he admitted, fondling the point of a blade holstered at his hip.
I continued to bridle my tongue, finding these circumstances vaguely familiar. Like … déjà vu.
“It’s my sworn duty to protect you,” he went on, “both physicallyandin reputation.”
I scoffed when he finished. “And, in your opinion, being kissed by the son of a duke would mar my reputation? Better yet, striking him was a sensible solution?”
The sound of my voice startled me because these were not my thoughts. It was as if I sat off to the side listening to a recording despite feeling present.
The sudden tension in Liam’s brow made it obvious my cynicism irritated him.
“I said … I apologize,” he muttered slowly.
Ignoring his attempt at smoothing over what I guessed to be a disagreement, I spoke to him sharply.
“You had no right! What I do, nor whom I do itwith, are any of your concern.”
He chuckled, finding something I said amusing.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” he insisted. As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned to leave.
A strange mix of frustration and desperation filled me, and I took a step in his direction. Then, a question left my mouth. “Why?”
That simple phrase halted his steps, but he didn’t turn again to face me. Instead, I was left to stare at broad shoulders that heaved as he lingered in the narrow corridor.
“Why what?” he countered.
“Why do you … care?” My voice quaked and I was certain he heard it, too.
With each breath, my chest strained against the material that sparsely covered it. Inside, my heart hammered a mile a minute and all I could think as I watched him was … don’t go.
The words never came out, but they were felt.
“I thought I already made this clear,” Liam seethed. “I stopped him because protecting you is my duty,” he reasoned. “It’s what I do.”