Page 61 of Forbidden Fate

“Suit yourself.”

I shift on the bed, just enough for the lamplight to move across me.

He curls his hands into fists.

And I’m fucking thrilled.

It would be so easy to pretend this is all part of the plan. That I’m perfectly calm. That every breath I take is measured, every movement calculated.

But the truth is my pulse is racing. My skin feels too tight. I want him closer.

The last time we did this, after the belly dancing, was reckless.

This is different.

This is me making sure he doesn’t walk out that door and decide saving me is too expensive.

This is me keeping the ball in my court.

And if I happen to fall in love with him in the process?

Oh, well. I’ll get over it.

Damn him.

Damn him for making this complicated.

I raise my hand and crook one finger. “Come here.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says.

“I didn’t ask if it was a good idea.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“I told you to come here.”

His mouth twitches. “Bossy.”

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Then come here.”

Still, he hesitates. A muscle ticks in his jaw. He looks to the door, to the bathroom, to the towel on the floor, to my face.

“Robin,” he says.

I lean back farther, letting my hair slide over one shoulder. “Cruz.”

His nostrils flare. He takes one step. Then another. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he stops.

“Closer,” I say.

“Why?”

I smile. “You need me to explain the birds and the bees to you?”