Home > Witch's Cauldron (Legion Of Angels #2)(48)

Witch's Cauldron (Legion Of Angels #2)(48)
Author: Ella Summers

“Leda.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. You can’t just ‘Leda’ me and then everything is all better.” I tried to shake him off, but the man had an iron grip. “Let me go, Nero,” I bit out.

“Talk to me.”

He looked irked at being denied what he wanted. Good. I was pissed as hell at him right now. He couldn’t just hold me here. I would have swung a punch at his perfect, obnoxious face except I wasn’t even allowed to hit him. That would get me into trouble. I unclenched my fist.

He realized what I was thinking—or he’d just read my thoughts. “I absolve you from any repercussions of hitting me.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. I swung a punch at him—a fast, hard punch. He caught my fist in his hand.

“If you can hit me,” he added.

The arrogant bastard. I tried to hit him again, but he was too fast. He was always too fast. It was one of his most annoying qualities, especially right now. Would it kill him to stand still and let me get in a punch? I growled in frustration.

“Are you done yet?” he asked with infuriating calmness.

“Not even close.” I aimed for his head, and he captured my other hand. “I’m just waiting for the right opening.”

“Take your time.”

“You…” I pushed against his hand. “…are…” I made a futile attempt to kick his shin. “…so…” Futile or not, I tried again—and failed. “…aggravating.” I growled at him.

“So I’ve been told.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a hard, tortured laugh. “When are you going to let me go?”

“After we’ve talked about what is going on between us.”

“There is nothing going on between us. Nothing. You made that perfectly clear last night.”

“Last night was a mistake.”

“This whole thing was a mistake. You. Me. Me thinking we could…” An angry noise buzzed in my mouth.

“We could what?” he said quietly.

“It doesn’t matter. This could never work.”

“Last night was a mistake,” he repeated. “Basanti found the fairies. They were so excited to go on a double date with two soldiers of the Legion of Angels.”

Why the hell was he telling me this?

“All of us have a little of the vampire in us, Leda. We don’t have to drink blood to survive, but that doesn’t mean the hunger doesn’t hit us too. Lately, I’ve been feeling this hunger, this growing hunger. Basanti told me I’m too wound up, that I need to relax.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You don’t owe me anything,” I said. “In fact, don’t. I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’m wound up because of you,” he told me, his thumb rubbing the inside of my wrist, tracing circles across my veins.

I closed my eyes. “I can’t listen to this.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t what?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“Act on that hunger last night. Because it wasn’t for that fairy. It was for you.”

I felt the fight in me go out like a light. My muscles went liquid.

“When I saw you there, the pain in your eyes, the jealousy—”

“Thinking a bit highly of yourself, are you?”

“You aren’t the only one,” he told me. “Jealousy is a merciless fiend.”

“Kind of like an angel,” I muttered.

“When I saw you leave the office for lunch with Fireswift, I nearly intervened.”

Translation: he’d nearly lost it and attacked Jace. I could see a hint of that madness burning in his eyes now.

“Jace is just a friend.”

“Friends with a Legion brat?” He leaned in, his mouth spreading into a smile so delicious I could hardly resist the temptation to steal a taste.

“Yes, friends. You should try it sometime.”

“Being your friend?”

“It sure beats being enemies.”

He moved forward, and the room suddenly felt very small. “You shouldn’t have been there with Fireswift. You should have been there with me.”

I backed away. “You aren’t interested in going out to lunch with me.”

“No, the things I want to do to you cannot be done in public.” His mouth dipped to kiss the underside of my wrist. Heat cascaded through my body like a burning river, searing everything it touched. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me, Leda.”

My retreat came to an abrupt end when the back of my legs bumped against his desk. In that moment, my mind flashed back to the last time we’d been alone in his office. I’d tossed my panties at his feet. His eyes flickered down to my legs. A slow, sexy smile spread across his lips, as though he were remembering it too.

“I’m not so easy,” I said in clear contradiction to that memory.

“You want me.”

“No.” My body betrayed me, negating my denial.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you honestly don’t want me, then I will leave.” His mouth quirked. “I won’t even handcuff you to my desk this time.”

Trying to calm the rush of heat in my cheeks—and everywhere else—I met his eyes. “Nero, I don’t…” The words died on my tongue as soon as I saw my own longing reflected in his eyes. A hard, cruel ache twisted inside of me. “I can’t.” I slouched in defeat.

   
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