Prince of Ink & Scars (The Welsh Kings Trilogy Book 2) by Raya Morris Edwards

Author:Raya Morris Edwards [Edwards, Raya Morris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CIRCE

Later that week, I met up with Delaney and Emmy, this time for coffee downtown. I dodged Emmy’s questions about what was going on in my life and turned them back on her. She didn’t mind; she loved any opportunity to talk about her job. Delaney was withdrawn. She stood with one arm around herself, sipping her latte while Emmy chattered.

“Are you alright?” I ventured.

She offered a tight smile. “Fine, just tired.”

“What’s making you so tired?” Emmy teased. “You have a boyfriend?”

She frowned. “What? No.”

I nudged Emmy. There was a serious note in Delaney’s voice, like there had been at the restaurant. I gave her a pointed look, and she shook her head, clearly not willing to talk about it.

We parted ways, and I made a mental note to check back with her tomorrow. A little part of me was sad, watching them walk off. I sighed and got in my car and turned the key.

“Hey.”

I jumped out of my skin, almost hitting my head on the car roof. It took a second, but my eyes focused on the lean figure spread out in the passenger seat.

My heartbeat exploded.

“Goddamn it, Caden,” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

He looked me over, unashamed. “You left the door unlocked.”

“It auto locks after two minutes.”

“I got in one minute after you left.”

“And you’ve just been sitting here this entire time?” I stared at him, horrified by his audacity.

“I had a lot of business calls to make, and your car is comfortable,” he said.

I just stared at him, speechless. He sent me a heavy-lidded stare, one that felt more indecent than being naked in front of him, and got out. He walked around the car and opened the door. Confused, I got out, and he took me by the waist, ushering me to the passenger side of my own car.

What…the hell?

He slid into the driver’s seat and adjusted it back to make room for his long body. Then, he made the engine purr and pulled out onto the street.

“I beg your pardon,” I said, finally pulling myself together.

He rested one hand out the window, the wind whipping his dark hair. “No need, you’re fine.”

I turned in my seat. “You are not fine. Where are we going?”

He glanced over from beneath those dark lashes. Something about him was different. There was a faint aura of desperation about him that I hadn’t seen since the night…well, since he’d gone down on me at the lodge.

I swallowed past my dry throat as my hands twisted together in my lap.

The air crackled. He dragged his eyes back to the road.

“We’re fucking, aren’t we?” I whispered.

His knuckles tightened on the wheel.

“Yeah, we’re fucking,” he said.

Maybe it was his confidence, just showing up and taking the wheel out of my hands. Maybe it was him and his tattoos, all hell bent on getting me in bed. Whatever it was, my body responded like he’d lit a match and put it to gasoline.

One minute, I wasn’t remotely thinking about sex.

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