Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Afew moments after entering the room, there was a knock on the door just before a figure burst through. I grabbed the bedspread, tugging it over me, building myself up for another attack from the Wolf.
“Hey, luv.” Rosie sauntered in, her arms full of clothing.
I exhaled, my shoulders sagging with relief, thankful it wasn’t Warwick slamming back into the room for revenge.
I was far too exhausted to fight him again.
I still had no idea how I had been able to push him over.
He was a mountain, and in my weakened state, I shouldn’t have been able to move him at all.
“Thought you might need something to change into.” She dumped the pile on the bed. I reached out, picking up a tiny silk tank, which had to be more of a nightshirt. “Went around to find someone more your size.” I guessed she meant bony, no curves, and small breasted—the complete opposite of her.
I peered at her, feeling a stab of envy. Rosie was everything most men would desire. Stunning face, voluptuous in both hips and boobs. She rouged her cheeks a deep rose color, false eyelashes making her blue eyes pop. Their English Rose. The perfect sweet seduction.
She was exactly the kind of woman I could see Warwick inviting into his bed. Surprised he hasn’t already. Probably just working down the list.
I had never been insecure before. Most women in my world were envious of my slim figure.
The skinnier, the better was the motto of the elite, who were entitled enough to starve themselves purposely.
They lived in a place that had plenty of food, but they wanted to be thin.
Here, people were starving; curves were worshiped.
No one would envy how I looked right now. I wasn’t sexy in the slightest. Nor should my emaciated figure be envied. This wasn’t because I refrained from eating the biscuit at teatime, trying to hold on to my figure. This was a prisoner’s body.
“Sorry there aren’t more options around here. Clothes aren’t important at Kitty’s, especially normal, everyday items.” She lowered her head as though embarrassed. “I’m sure you are used to much finer stuff.”
“What do you mean?” I sat on the bed, my leg throbbing, my energy tanking.
“It’s obvious you aren’t like us.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You are a proper lady.”
“Proper?” I snorted. “What gave you that idea?”
“A lot of our job is observing, figuring people out. It’s how I know what they want, even if they don’t.
I can tell their ultimate desires. We pick up on even the tiniest of nuances.
” She motioned to me. “The way you sit with your back straight, your hands in your lap. The way you talk. Hold yourself. You came from money, grew up educated and with decorum. These are all qualities you don’t find in this part of town. ”
I blinked, my gaze dropping to my hands folded in my lap.
Etiquette had been drilled into me from an early age, and I didn’t even think about it.
Pulling my hands apart, I reached for a piece of clothing, picking up a slip, which normally would go under another skirt.
The thin white cotton was worn and frayed, but it was clean.
“This is perfect, thank you.” I pulled the skirt into my lap, seeing the lacy undergarments beneath. I was a cotton-bikini-bottoms-and-sports-bra kind of girl. Swallowing, I picked up the black scraps of fabric. They were only for decoration; there was nothing to them, no support.
“Sorry, no granny pants here.” Rosie snickered, winking at me. “If you’d rather borrow a bodice . . .”
“No.” I shook my head firmly. I had worn dresses with bodice tops—they were worse than any torture device Halalház could think up. “This is fine.”
“Thought so. I’m so used to them now; I feel naked without it.
” She smiled, tugging the top of her bodice and stuffing her plump breasts back inside it.
I tugged on the delicate lace thong, frowning at how little it covered.
“Sooooo.” Her playful tone flicked up my head.
She tapped her lip, her eyebrows curving.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you and Warwick in the bathroom—”
The door creaked open, stopping the rest of Rosie’s sentence, our eyes swinging to the entrance. Warwick stomped through, filling the space, loading the air with energy, causing shivers to run down my back. Commanding. Dominating.
I knew I wasn’t alone in feeling it. Rosie inhaled, her hand going to her breastbone, goosebumps prickling her skin. Her feet twitched like she was nervous, but she licked her lip, her chest puffing out like a peacock, not able to fight her nature.
Not against him anyway.
Soaked from his voyage into the bathtub, his clothes clung to his physique, forcing my gaze to roam over each place they stuck tightly to him, curving over his muscles and . . . gods, the man’s cock was even indecent fully clothed. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, forcing my head to the side.
“Warwick,” Rosie said his name as if she were addressing a god, her mouth open in awe as she took in how the fabric clung to him.
“We have never officially met, though I feel I know you. Your reputation precedes you. And I have to say, it’s been greatly minimalized.
You are even more impressive up close.” She bit her lip, her gaze moving over him like a cat stalking its next meal.
A part of me wanted to knock her across the head, another part totally understood her reaction, and yet another part wanted to tell those two parts to shut up. She could have him. I didn’t care.
His heavy gaze met mine, not responding to Rosie. He kept his expression neutral, but I could feel the pulse of his fury radiating off him like a tangible object. Even with the bedspread covering my chest, I felt stripped bare as his eyes burned into me.
“If you need anything . . . Anything. At. All.” She continued to talk, but not once did his eyes flicker to her.
“Rosie, is it?” he rumbled, still watching me.
“Y-yes.” Her face bloomed with elation. “The English Rose at your service.” She winked, her eyes heated, her robe open, allowing him to see her ample breasts, which practically fell out of the bodice.
“Thank you for watching over her.” His attention narrowed on me.
“Oh, you are so welcome. She was no problem. Anything I can do to make your stay here bet—”
“Rosie,” he cut her off.
“Yes?”
“You can go.”
Her shoulders jerked at the dismissal, but she quickly gathered herself, nodding.
“Of course.” She turned back to me, her eyes darting between Warwick and me before she took off for the door, trying to slip quietly out.
“Thank you, Rosie.”
She paused, looked at me with an impish smile, then closed the door with a click.
Leaving me alone with him. I could feel him glowering, a weight pressing down, and with every second of silence, it grew heavier. I realized quickly trying to out-stubborn him was a losing battle. Warwick did not have the normal responses to awkwardness and tension most people did.
“I’m not going to apologize if that is what you are waiting for,” I grumbled, folding the blanket firmer against my chest.
Silence.
I turned my attention back to him, sucking in as if he had plucked the air from my lungs. Was I always going to have this response to him? Wet, sexy, intense, brutal. He was too much—overwhelming and dangerous. Someone who would drown you. Take all of you.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved against his intensity, glaring back at him. “Is someone pouting ‘cause he got a little wet?” I taunted, wanting to stand up, but my leg wasn’t having it. “Or because a human girl got the better of him?”
His focus didn’t relent as he took measured steps toward me. Nerves collapsed my lungs, my backbone going rigid, but I didn’t flinch as he lowered his head to mine, his mouth a breath from mine.
“You think you got the better of me?” Raspy, his words went through me like Scotch, burning and heating my muscles, his breath snaking down the thin sheet covering me.
“Yes.” I tipped up my chin, not backing away from him.
A smirk pulled up the side of his mouth. “You think that was a real fight between us?”
I glowered, hating my betraying eyes as they dipped down to his mouth.
“I held my own against you in the pit.”
His patronizing smile grew.
“Believe me, when it’s a real match between us, you’ll know how easy I was on you. You’ll be begging for me to relent.”
Once again, his words grazed me like fingers tracing my skin, threatening me with other things besides battle. The line between danger and ecstasy was very fine.
“Now drop the bedsheet and flip over.” He tilted his head as if he was going to kiss me, but I heard a deadly menace in his tone. “Now.”
“What?” I jerked back, slamming into the bed frame, my fingers gripping the comforter to my chin. Heat swarmed my veins, my damp skin prickling with stimuli.
His eyes dropped down to my body, pausing over my lips as they came back to my glare.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Seen it. Not at all interested.” He stood up to his full height, peering down at me, adding to the raging mortification I felt. “Your leg, Kovacs. I need to wrap it up. It’s bleeding all over the sheets right now.”
My head snapped to my calf. True enough, the wound had reopened and was leaking down my leg. I hadn’t felt a thing.
Shit.
Humiliation colored my cheeks, knowing his presence was the reason I didn’t notice. It was hard to notice anything with him around. He overpowered. Consumed.