Page 25 of Fuse

“Both?”

I fill my cheeks with air and then shove it all out. “You’re treating me like a queen, literally, but I may as well be stamping my foot like an ingrate. I’m a regular Christine freaking Daaé.”

“Only you have the sense to love the man in the shadows instead of all the fops in the opera house.”

I let out a watery giggle as he lifts one hand to shield a side of his face, ala the iconic Phantom.

“Plus, I sing like a goose.”

He lowers the hand to reveal he’s actually doing the lip-chewing thing. “Well, you’re not awful…”

I whack his shoulder. “You’re pushing your credibility now, mister.”

He shrugs. Not a bad thing, considering this man’s flexing muscles really do belong in some high-end graphic novel, no artist embellishment needed. After my overt ogling, I tilt a grateful glance his way. He’s letting the subject drop so I can recollect my thoughts—meaning he’s probably already figured out a bunch of them but is willing to let me sort them out for myself too.

God. I really do love him so.

Doesn’t stop me from yanking my hands away and tucking them between my thighs. Or from grumbling, “I’ll bet Angelique sings like a nightingale.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Reece all but spits the reply. “And don’t care.”

“That was really the right answer.”

“It’s the truth.”

“And the truth also is, I’m still being an ingrate.”

He leans back over. Pushes a thumb beneath my chin, compelling my face back up—and my stare directly into the burn line of his. “You’re being human, baby. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

I scrape my thumb across the rugged fullness of his lower lip. “Yeah, well…your very human fiancée is admitting to being very conflicted right now.”

He dips his head just enough to suckle the pad of my thumb. “I know.”

A weighted breath leaves me. His credibility is in fine shape, because I believe him a hundred and fifty percent. He does know—and more than that, he understands. But I can also see the flickers of conflict in his gaze, tiny silver knives beneath his gorgeous grays. He’s beginning to comprehend the rest of our situation too. Angelique has put everything on the line, perhaps even her life, for our team—including the failed attempt to get Kane safely out of the hive, as well as everything she risked to deliver the intel to us in person. And there’s the not-so-little factor that she’s also his brother’s grieving girlfriend.

So no way can we just turn the woman away now. But if she stays, then what’s that situation going to look and feel like? Her history with the Richards men isn’t a normal one by any stretch of the imagination—even using the king-sized rubber band’s worth of stretching that’s required here.

So where’s the line we draw between comping her room but restricting the amenities?

I’ve never been happier to see harsher angles take over Reece’s face. Whew. He’s being racked by the same weird dilemmas, a conclusion backed by the fresher alloy in his eyes and the determined set of his jaw. I just hope he’s got a better plan than I do wavering at the crossroads of conscience and possessiveness.

Until he’s suddenly jerking me back to my feet and stripping the robe off my shoulders. Yes, in one incredibly slick move. Yes, even for him. Yes, with an unmistakable quirk across his lips—even as I gasp out, “Mr. Richards? What the hell?”

A new shrug. A fiercer wolf beneath his smirk. “I like you better in naked Amazon mode.”

“Huh?”

“Go with it.” He presses close enough to rub the beautiful slabs of his pecs against my pebbled breasts. “You think clearer this way.”

I jolt my eyebrows up. Attempt a haughty inhalation but wind up with jerky little gasps that add to the friction between our chests. Holy God, what he does to me…all the static and magic and turbulence he brings to me. But if this is what he calls clarity, I’m turning in my sanity card this very second.

Maybe I’ll be doing that regardless—as I jump at least a foot, even with Reece steadying me, when there’s a booming knock at the bedroom door.

“What the hell?” he growls, though most of it is stifled by another round of the noise, sounding more and more like someone’s gotten hold of a full battering ram and is using it on the portal.

“Reece!”

I jerk again when Sawyer’s bellow all but blasts down the wall. What’s going on? He’s using Reece’s first name. Not Richards or Boss-alicious or Assjerk or Bolt Burger. The guy has only gone first-name basis with Reece on occasions I can count with one hand. But the times he’s done that and gone to this level of thunder and lightning about it?