Fated by Sarah Fine Page B

me. And I want to trust you.”
    “I wouldn’t be standing in front of you if I didn’t trust you at least a little.”
    She took another step forward. She was now only a foot away. He could hear her heart beating inside her chest, could feel the tension in her body—
    “You’re lying,” she whispered. “I don’t think you trust me at all.”
    He could feel his eyes sparking with crimson as hers traced his face. “Just tell me what you want,” he said.
    “I want you to touch me.”
    He blinked at her, unable to contain his shock. “What?”
    Her fingers rose to his face, but he stepped out of her reach just in time. “Do you have any idea what would happen to you if our skin touched?” he asked, wishing his heart would slow.
    “I talked to Cacia. I know exactly what would happen.”
    “And did she explain the toll?” His fists clenched. The mere idea of touching Aislin had awakened a shaky hunger inside him, but also an anger. No one had the right to affect him like this. He set the tempo. He was the one in control. “Did she tell you what I took from her?”
    Aislin bowed her head, and her hair slid over her shoulder, finely spun platinum catching the light. “She did. But I’ve decided it would be worth it. I think you need to see my future. You need to see that I’m not going to betray you.”
    He shook his head. “You have no idea what I’ll see.” And neither did he, oddly enough. He edged to the side, so that one of her couches was between them. Usually, he caught wisps of people’s destinies if they were near him, but he couldn’t sense Aislin’s. That might be a result of her distracting him, though, or his own lack of concentration after failing to retrieve the Blade. “You can’t know your own future, Aislin.”
    “Don’t my intentions matter? Doesn’t my will?”
    He wished she’d stay still and give him a moment to think, but she was already moving around the couch, closing the distance between them again. Determined and unstoppable, like he’d always known her to be. “It will change everything,” he warned, his voice strangely deep and unsteady.
    Her hand slipped along the upholstery of the couch. “I know,” she murmured. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the sake of the Ferrys.”
    A sacrifice. Suddenly, he wanted to roar with frustration. Allowing him to touch her skin was a sacrifice, an unwanted burden. But she was so close, and so enticing, and she was offering something he rarely refused.
    A touch, skin to skin. A taste of life, of destiny. Both at once.
    And with Aislin, it came with an added benefit. If the Charon was going to betray him, he would know. Servant of Fate or not, he would be ready for her to try, and ready to destroy her. She wouldn’t be able to get the best of him. His brow furrowed. Either way, touching her would give him what he needed. Certainty. He raised his hands and tugged at the fingers of his gloves, deliberate and unhurried. He wanted her to see every movement.
    Aislin’s heart raced. He could hear it, addictive and frantic, ticking away the seconds of her life. It made his mouth water, and for more than just a taste of her future. “You’ll do it?” she asked as he pocketed his gloves.
    “Oh, yes,” he said, keenly aware of the stirring inside him. He needed to push that away and focus on what he might see, but it was driving him now, rushing through his veins, awakening buried cravings. “How could I turn down such an offer?”
    Her pupils dilated, possibly with fear. “Should . . . should I sit down?”
    “No, my dear,” he said quietly as he moved closer. It took all his restraint not to yank her into his arms and crush her against him. Her chest rose and fell to the rapid cadence of her breathing, drawing his gaze to her breasts. “I’ll be holding you up.”
    Her fingers curled into the soft cushion of the couch. It looked like she was trying to keep herself from running away. He almost wanted her to,