Page 16 of Coveted

Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate. Lucan passes so close I can smell his expensive cologne. His scent seems almost alive, curling around me and revealing me to him.

Unnerved, I remind myself he can’t feel me here. That isn’t a thing.

And yet he slows further, as if he knows I’m nearby.

God, what did I do to deserve this?

Then he stops completely and I prepare to fight. I’ll scratch his eyes out if I have to.

Silence expands between us, the trees muffling any sound from the lake or green.

“This goes the way I say it goes,” comes his voice, closer than I thought he was. “You should get used to that.”

His sheer arrogance sends my breath out in a huff.

I have zero intention of getting used to anything about him. Unless I can kick him hard in the shins. I could get used to that.

Running is my best bet now though, because the guy is massive. I’ll never fight him off.

Hoping to catch him by surprise, I break through a cluster of low branches. Within two steps, a hand closes around the back of my sweater.

He yanks me off balance and I spin, my spine slamming into a tree trunk before I can even shout.

Lucan is suddenly everywhere, filling my vision, one arm braced beside my head and the other pinning my wrist to the tree. My hand throbs with blood as his iron grip restricts my circulation.

I buck against him, but it’s like trying to throw off a brick wall.

“You asshole,” I spit. “Let me go.”

His ultra-calm voice makes my pulse stutter. “Where’d you put it?”

While I weigh my options, panic engulfs me.

If I give up the pennant in my bra, will he take his hands off me? How much worse will this get if I refuse?

Careless under pressure, I flick my eyes to where I’ve hidden the pennant. I realize my mistake at once, but it’s too late. Of course Lucan saw.

His lip curls and he looks down at my chest. When his eyes lift again, there’s something sharp and pleased in them.

“Bad girl, Sadie,” he taunts. “But you can’t hide anything from me.”

He drops his braced arm, tugging roughly at the hem of my sweater. His hand snakes under the hem, disappearing.

Though I expect his touch to be ice cold, like him, his skin feels hot. My ribs contract as his hand runs up my flesh to the band of my bra, leaving a trail of goosebumps. I hate knowing he can tell.

“It’s from the cold air,” I say through gritted teeth. “Not your touch.”

“I thought we established that you’re a bad liar,” he says.

“We established nothing except you need to be told no more often.”

“People generally don’t bother, because they understand it’s pointless. But I’d enjoy seeing you try.”

Lucan taps his fingers against my bra band, as if daring me to protest.

The way he’s tormenting me stirs my annoyance. I want this over as quickly as possible. My pride’s already lying in tatters at our feet. I’ll let him win this game if it means I can leave.

“Just take the pennant,” I say. “So I don’t have to look at your hideous face for another second.”