Throwing a look over my shoulder, I gasp in surprise but when my eyes only meet his muscular back, I figure I misheard. Of course I misheard. As if Rammstein “the machine” would ever care about me. The only reason any of the made men are willing to give me even an ounce of attention is because of my uncle.
Sulky because I know Rammstein won’t ever like me in that way, I run into my bedroom and walk out onto the balcony. Fireworks splay across the sky and I wince when one spells my name. Ugh...so completely over the top and I’m dying to get out of my dress.
Groaning to myself, I struggle with the buttons and I can’t reach the back. Annoyance flares in me when I realize I’ll probably have to call for the maid to help. She’ll get all pissy no doubt, considering she’s the oldest person in the house and the grumpiest.
And I don’t want to wake her just to bother her with my pointless problem...
“Freya.”
Twitching at the gentle voice, I swiftly turn around and lean into the balcony railing.Rammstein. He’s here in my room, uninvited and with a treacherous look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” I gasp in shock and he reaches into his pocket.
“You dropped this.”
He holds up my earring and it glimmers between his fingers. I touch my earlobe, surprised to find it empty. “Oh, thank you. I didn’t notice,” I whisper, taking it from him and I put it on even though I was getting ready for bed.
But I don’t want Rammstein to look at me while my jewelry is all asymmetrical and think I’m not pretty.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, his voice insanely raspy and something about his energy feels dangerous. Yearning seems to boil under his surface, ramming me and I feel like a helpless woman tied to the rails while a train is coming.
He wants something. And it has nothing to do with my lost and found diamond.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs as if knowing what I’m thinking and I flush hot then cold.
Goosebumps break out on my arms and the back of my neck. “No, you shouldn’t.”
His eyes flare as if he’s displeased that I agreed. As if he wanted me to throw myself at him and forbid him from going anywhere. He wolfishly licks his firm lips, replying, “But I don’t want to leave.”
My heart begins pounding. “If someone finds out you’ve been in here...”
“They’ll have my head,” he finishes calmly. “And I don’t give a flying fuck.” Hunger pours from his eyes and I’ve read him all wrong. He does wantme. “You look exquisite tonight, Freya.”
Raising his arm, he holds out his palm and I stare at it like it’s an invitation to enter forbidden territory. I know why he wants me to take it. To get me off the balcony, away from prying eyes that can see me but can’t see him.
They have no idea who’s back there waiting for me, waiting for an opportunity to catch and corrupt.
“What will you do if I agree to take your hand?” I whisper.
“Be kind to you. Assist you. Help you get out of your dress.”
My lips purse. “I could call the maid.”
A smile curves his mouth. “You’d still have to get past me first.”
I gasp in alarm, wondering if this is a dream. Maybe he’s had too much to drink and is now taking reckless decisions. But he doesn’t smell of alcohol and it seems that I’m the tipsy one here because I’m seriously considering his offer.
His voice lowers a couple of octaves when he purrs, “I can’t stay away from you. Not tonight. Freya. Just not tonight.”
He sounds so pleading, like he’s breaking on the inside. I feel like I’m breaking too. This is so unexpected. The way he’s talking and looking at me, speaks of a storm of emotions that have been brewing inside of him and can’t be buried underneath his tough exterior anymore.
I feel like I have no choice but to offer him my hand. He takes it with so much gratitude and possessiveness that my knees cave. Whimpering, I fall against his chest and he looks down at me with penetrating eyes. They bore into my core like the toughest screwdriver in the world and turn me into something too soft for words.
In front of him, I’m powerless. The only thing I can do is give in.
Pulling me farther into the room, he closes the balcony and draws the curtains. His actions make my head spin and I feel like I’m going to faint when he murmurs that he’s locked the door to my room. He’s been planning this since the moment he stepped inside and I’m madly attracted to his cunning ways.
“I saw the way you looked at the tiger in the cage,” he whispers, placing his hands on my lower back and my eyes roll back in my head. He brings his face closer to mine. “I wish I could give you freedom, Freya. I wish I could take you away.”
“Can’t you?” I whisper, my mind immediately flooding with fantasies of me and Rammstein out in the big world. He’d be my strong man and I’d be his loving woman. “I want to be with you.”