He stepped closer.
I felt the temperature in the room drop.
"Isabella" he said quietly. "You do not prank me. You do not set traps. You do not make me walk into yogurt at six in the morning."
Something about the way he said it, low and thick with restrained anger, made heat curl between my legs.
Pathetic. My body needed therapy.
"So what then" I whispered. "I am supposed to sit here and twiddle my thumbs waiting for you to appear like some shadow husband or whatever."
His hand lifted. For a second I thought he was going to touch me.
My breath caught.
He froze, fingers inches from my jaw, breathing slightly heavier.
My lips parted.
"I am avoiding you because I am trying to think clearly" he said. "If I look at you too long, I stop thinking."
My pulse punched upward.
"That is not my problem" I whispered.
His eyes sharpened. "It is. Because you are reckless. And if you scare me again, Isabella, I swear I will…"
"You will what" I pushed, lifting my chin.
He stepped closer.
