Pearl's POV

Everett Langford's growl shocked me just as much as it shocked Siena. I sprang back, pressing myself against the corner of the bathroom. The water from the sink still burned against my throat, and I coughed and spluttered to get it all out.

Siena froze, her hands trembling as she backed away from me. Her confidence seemed to crumble under his sharp glare, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I saw fear in her eyes.

Everett Langford stepped further inside, his presence consuming the room. “I asked you a question, woman, and for your own good, you'd better answer me."

“I... I wasn’t—” Siena stammered, but Everett Langford cut her off with a single, biting word.

“Enough.”

He turned to me then, his eyes locking into mine just enough to make my knees wobble. Before I could speak or even breathe properly, his strong hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me up with ease.

The heat of his touch startled me, but it was his scent that undid me. A heady mix of dark amber and cedarwood, spiked with a hint of something smoky and dangerous. It was intoxicating, pulling me in even though I wanted to resist.

No, no, no, no! My mind screamed. Why did it have to be him?

Everett Langford didn’t so much as glance at me as he positioned me behind him, shielding me from Siena as though I were some damsel in distress, which I wasn't. Why was this hulk of a man treating me like some baby?

The thought grated on my nerves, but I couldn’t deny the slight comfort his towering frame brought.

He fixed his gaze on Siena. His face was passive, but there was something burning in his eyes, and it scared even me. “Why were you demanding a key from her?”

Siena opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“I’m waiting,” he grunted.

Siena swallowed hard. “It’s... n...none of your business!”

“Wrong answer.” Everett Langford took a step closer to her, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering its prey. “I’ll ask again: why were you trying to drown her? What’s so important about this key?”

Siena stuttered. "Like I said, It Is none of your business."

"I will make it my business if I want to."

“It.... it is personal...."

“Personal?” Everett Langford echoed, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. “You mean personal enough to commit attempted murder in a public place?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill her!” Siena protested, her voice rising in desperation.

Everett Langford cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, so holding someone’s head under water is your idea of a joke? Forgive me if I don’t find it amusing.”

Siena took a step back, her heel hitting the tiled floor with a faint squeak.

He tilted his head, studying her with a cold intensity that made my skin prickle. “You do realize I know how to find you, don’t you? If you lie to me again, I will make sure you, and everybody related to you, regrets it.”

Siena’s face went pale. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

Everett Langford’s laugh was humorless. “Funny. You looked pretty determined when I walked in.”

I stood frozen behind him, watching the exchange like it was some twisted play. My throat still burned from the water I’d swallowed, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Everett Langford. He was commanding, ruthless, and utterly terrifying, but he was also strangely captivating.

Siena’s gaze darted to the door, and I saw the exact moment she decided to run.

“Don’t you dare.....” Everett Langford started, but it was too late.

Siena bolted toward the exit, shoving past him with surprising force.

Everett Langford moved fast, his reflexes sharper than I would’ve imagined for a man his size. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around with enough force to make her stumble.

“Let me go!” she shrieked, clawing at his grip.

Their struggle was chaotic, bodies twisting and colliding in the small space. Then, in the chaos, Siena’s hand shot up and caught the edge of his mask.

The thick golden material tore away, clattering to the ground like a fallen leaf.

And for the first time, I saw the man beneath the mask.

The entire room seemed to go still. The music from the ballroom outside was muffled now, distant and irrelevant compared to what I was seeing.

Everett Langford froze and straightened, his hand still gripping Siena’s arm. His face was as striking as I’d imagined but it was the left side that stole my breath.

And there it was: a long line of serrated, jagged flesh, running down the left side of his face.

********

Siena seized that opportunity to turn and dash out of the bathroom, but I didn't care anymore. My eyes were fixed on the man before me.

Everett Langford bent down swiftly, snatching the mask off the floor and placing it back over his face. His movements were sharp, deliberate, as though hiding his scar could erase the moment it was revealed.

But I was already very curious. “What happened to your face?” I asked, taking a cautious step forward.

His head whipped around, blue eyes blazing. “It’s none of your concern.”

His tone was a warning, but I wasn’t one to back down easily. “I’m just asking a question. You don’t need to bite my head off,” I replied, folding my arms. "You can tell me."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Stay out of things you don’t understand!” he snapped.

That should have been the end of it. I should’ve shut up, turned around, and walked out of that bathroom. But the stubborn woman in me refused to let him have the last word.

“Wow,” I said, with a bitter laugh. “You save someone’s life, bark orders at them, and then act like you’re God’s gift to the world? Hate to break it to you, but you’re not as intimidating as you think.”

His eyes darkened instantly to an almost black colour. He took one step closer, and I stumbled backwards in surprise.

“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” he growled, giving me a lazy once-over with his eyes. "You're a feisty woman."

“Maybe if you weren’t such a control freak, people wouldn’t feel the need to push back,” I shot back at his face.

That was it. The thread holding him together snapped. In a flash, he was in front of me, his movements a blur of speed.

And before I knew what was happening, his hand was gripping my neck and pressing me against the wall.

Pearl's POV

"You are such a stubborn woman!" He growled, his breath heating my face. "I like my women subservient—"

"Then maybe you should leave me alone!" I spat.

"—but there is something about you," he continued, as if he didn't hear me. His lips moved, trailing a heated line from my ear, down my neck and back. His hand was still around my neck, holding me in place. Excited goosebumps were spiralling down my body at this point.

"You need to be punished." He said suddenly, letting go of my neck.

The force of his words left me speechless for a second. "Punished?" I whispered.

"Yes." He replied. "For being so feisty."

And with one sweep of his arm, he lifted me in the air and placed me to sit on the sink.

Kiss me! I screamed in my head with a strange, unfamiliar need, completely captivated by him. I was staring openly at Everett Langford's Cupid's bow mouth now, utterly mesmerized, and he was looking down at me, his gaze hooded, his eyes darkening.

He was breathing harder than usual, and I had stopped breathing altogether. I’m in your arms. Kiss me, please, I pleaded inside of me. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then settled himself in between my legs.

Suddenly he pushed forward, pressing me against the mirror behind me. Before I knew it, he had both of my hands in one of his in a shackle-like grip above my head.

Holy shit.

His other hand grabbed my hair and yanked down, bringing my face up, and breathing into my mouth.

I couldn't take it anymore.

Reaching forward, I took his mouth in a kiss.

The man froze for a moment, utterly surprised, then relaxed. I moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He took full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth.

I had never, ever been kissed like this.

My tongue tentatively stroked his and joined his in a slow, erotic dance that was all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. He brought his hand up to grasp my chin and held me in place, then pulled back.

Staring down at me, he growled, “You have no idea how much I want you, Kitten."

Kitten?!

I inhaled a deep breath, absorbing both his words and his spicy male scent, then nuzzled his neck. He felt good, he felt right. I didn’t want to be scared. I didn’t want to think about the reasons this might be a mistake.

In the bathroom of a public space!

I curled my legs to my chest, wrapped my arms around my knees and watched his every move. And he let me. I was so small that the sink could hold me up.

He stared at me with such heat and desire in his eyes that I knew this was going to be a delicious escape. An escape I wanted.

With him.

I wanted to kiss a path around every single inch of his muscular body.

My gaze lowered, a soft moan all but escaping my lips. His dick jutted forward in his navy blue pants, long and hard, promising more pleasure. It thickened under my inspection, and I bit my lips. If I could have crawled on my knees and fallen beneath it, licked the glistening pebble of liquid on the tip, I would have.

My gaze went to his. “Put your legs down, Kitten.” He commanded.

I swallowed, realizing he wasn’t moving. He was standing there, watching me as I was watching him. Which seemed a fair enough trade. Slowly, I lowered my legs, pressed my hands to the sink, my body exposed to his hungry stare that traveled lower.

He went down on his knees in front of me but didn’t touch me. “Open for me, now." He ordered softly.

That he wasn’t touching me somehow made the order more erotic. Slowly, I did as he said. I inched my thighs apart, spread my legs for him. His eyes seemed to caress and touch every inch of me.

“Beautiful,” he said hoarsely, arousal lancing the one word that pulsed through me like a vibration. Heat spread through my limbs, expanding within my chest, set my heart to racing. I was panting. Panting and the man was not even touching me. Nor I him. It was as if he’d settled a barrier between us, an erotically charged barrier that only he could break. I had never experienced anything like it in my life.

“Mr Langford,” I said, all but pleading. “Please.”

His gaze riveted upward to meet mine. “Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Everywhere,” I whispered.

“Show me where. Show me how.”

Vulnerability assailed me. “Mr Langford,” I pleaded again. The truth was, I’d never touched myself for a man, not even Alan. I had never even considered it. Certainly, I knew my body, felt comfortable in my own skin. But touching myself for a man had always felt like giving away a piece of myself reserved for me and me alone.

“I won’t take you anyplace you don’t want to go, woman,” he promised, his eyes holding mine. “Anywhere you touch, I’ll touch.”

I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat. Could I touch myself in front of him?

I'd never done that with a man. Never felt comfortable enough, free enough. He would touch where I touched, he said. And I wanted him to touch me. Wanted it far more than I wanted control, I realized with shock.

This total stranger felt safe. This man, whom I’d tried so hard to demonize in my head, to make him the enemy. I'd tried so hard to make him look unreachable, untouchable, but he was slowly feeling familiar. It was insanity to me.

I reached up and loosened the halter strap of my dress, letting It fall away, exposing my braless chest. Then I touched my breasts, filled my hands with them, pinched my nipples. Watched him watching me. I felt my womb clench at the intense look on his face.

My fingers twirled my nipples. I moaned softly. “You like it when I do this?”

“I do,” he said. “But you’re going to like it even more when I do it.” His voice lowered. “Show me where to touch you. Show me where to taste you.”