"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU."
Grayson looked at Mailah for a long, silent moment.
His thumb, which had been tracing Mailah's jawline with such heartbreaking tenderness, suddenly stilled. His silver-ringed pupils flared, the gray of his irises darkening until they were the color of a storm-tossed sea. For a heartbeat, the silence was absolute—long enough for Mailah to hear the frantic, rhythmic drumming of her own heart and the low, resonant hum of the enchantments woven into the hotel's walls.
"You are a very foolish girl," he whispered.
Then, the distance between them vanished.
Grayson didn't just kiss her; he claimed her. It was a desperate, bruising meeting of lips that tasted of salt, iron, and a hunger so ancient it made the floor beneath them feel unsteady. His hands, previously hesitant, surged into her hair with a possessive violence, his fingers tangling in her curls as he tilted her head back to deepen the assault.
