Chapter 35

He moved suddenly, closing the distance between us in two long strides. He stopped inches from me, his presence overwhelming — the breadth of his shoulders blocking out the kitchen light, the heat of his body close enough to feel but not quite touching, and the scent of him filling my lungs: sandalwood, clean linen, and underneath it all, something darker that I had never been able to name. It was the scent of a man who commanded rooms full of killers with a look, who had held me against his chest and covered my ears while Tavio's venom shattered the air around us, who moved through the world as though it would rearrange itself to accommodate him. And it did. It always did.