Blood Lust - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,2
Sometimes she woke in the middle of the night, imagining she could still hear him whispering words of pleasure in her ear.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
He snorted, unimpressed. “And?”
“And I don’t have to answer to you.”
Tiny arms wrapped around her neck as Molly smacked a moist kiss on her cheek. “I missed you, Mommy.”
Her arms tightened around her daughter, tears filling her eyes. “I missed you too, baby. More than you could ever imagine.”
She heard Bas swear beneath his breath.
“Molly, go back to your bed so Mommy and I can have a little chat.”
“No, I don’t want to go to bed,” Molly pouted, burying her face in Myst’s neck. “I want to stay with Mommy.”
“Molly.” The edge in Bas’s voice warned that he was at the end of his patience.
Keeping her arms around the fragile little girl, Myst rose to her feet and carried Molly toward the door that led to the back of the suite.
“It’s okay.” She brushed her lips over Molly’s forehead. “I’ll tuck you in.”
Molly gazed up at her with shimmering bronze eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Pain sliced through Myst. She’d known this was going to be difficult. But she hadn’t realized it was going to feel as if her heart was being ripped out.
She forced a smile to her lips. This was for Molly.
After everything her daughter had been forced to endure over the past week, a visit from her mother was the least she could do for her.
“I’m not leaving,” she said, pretending to ignore the large male form prowling behind her like a panther shadowing its prey.
The hair on her nape stirred, her mind urging her to flee as she walked down the short hall that led to two bedrooms. She chose the nearest, heaving a silent sigh of relief at the sight of the toys piled in the corner of the elegant black and gold room.
The last thing she wanted was to accidentally intrude into Bas’s privacy.
Not that she feared he would toss her on his bed and strip off her clothes. Her lips twisted. His expression when she’d entered the suite had revealed what he thought of her.
And it was nothing good.
But it would have been . . . unnerving.
“You swear you won’t leave?” Molly pleaded as Myst crossed the lush black carpet to settle her daughter on the bed. “A pinkie swear?”
She gently tugged the gold comforter over Molly’s tiny body. “I swear.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Bas growled from behind her.
“We can discuss it later,” Myst muttered, concentrating on her daughter, who was snuggling into the mattress with her stuffed hippo pressed to her chest.
Although they’d been in constant mental contact, she’d never had the opportunity to savor Molly’s delicate beauty or the pure innocence of her soul, which glowed around her with a golden aura.
She was . . . perfect.
And worth every sacrifice that Myst had to make.
“Will you tell me a story?” Molly pleaded.
Myst gently pushed a silver curl off her daughter’s cheek. “Of course.”
Molly flashed her a dimpled grin. “I want to hear the one about the princess who saves the troll and he turns into a prince. That’s my favorite.”
“Her favorite?” Bas growled, abruptly grabbing Myst by the arm to tug her away from the bed. “What’s she talking about?”
Myst made a sound of impatience as they halted near the doorway. Okay, Bas had every reason not to trust her. She got that. She truly did.
But she only had a limited amount of time with Molly.
She couldn’t afford to waste a minute.
“It’s a fairy tale that I made up,” she confessed, forcing herself to meet the bronze male gaze even as tiny shudders raced through her body.
Who wouldn’t shudder when an assassin was scowling at her as if he was considering where he intended to dump the body?
It had nothing at all to do with the fingers that had loosened their grip and were absently stroking up and down the bare length of her arm.
“Fairy tale?” he snapped.
She shrugged, wishing she wasn’t such a shy, timid mouse.
If she was one of those beautiful, sophisticated women that seemed born with the knowledge of how to manipulate men, she could use her wiles to convince this man to let her stay.
As it was . . . she had no flipping idea how she was going to perform that particular miracle.
“It’s a harmless story.”
The stunning metallic eyes narrowed, the air heating. Bas was not only a witch, he was a born Sentinel, which meant