A low snarl gathered at the back of his throat now. “Come with me.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a command, and even though she wanted desperately to refuse, her feet were already moving beneath her, following his gruff order.
Jordana assumed he was bringing her back to the residential wing of the estate. Instead, she soon found herself trailing him down another snaking corridor, heading for a closed door near the end of the passageway.
Nathan opened the door, then turned to her. “Inside.”
She glanced past him to the unlit room on the other side of the threshold.
And apparently her body still trusted him more than her head, because she walked into the inky gloom without so much as a word of doubt.
He followed her in, so close she could feel his body heat searing the length of her back.
It was impossible not to acknowledge the danger of walking into a dark room in a long, empty corridor with the most lethal man she would probably ever know.
And yet her pulse was kicking in her veins. Her skin felt tight, too warm. Not with fear, even though it should be.
Expectation was a taut coil, twisting in her stomach … and lower still.
When would he touch her?
It wasn’t a question of if; she knew that in the same way she knew that when he did finally put his hands on her, she would let him.
Jordana waited to feel his fingers against her skin, his breath in her hair. She craved it, wanting it so badly in that moment, she could hardly breathe.
Nathan shifted behind her. He moved even closer now, and Jordana closed her eyes, lungs frozen.
A light flicked on overhead.
After the engulfing darkness of a moment ago, it blared jarringly bright, illuminating the small, enclosed surroundings.
“The supply room,” Jordana whispered, trying to convince herself she was relieved.
Nathan stepped past her and prowled over to a tower of sturdy metal shelves. He grabbed a thick roll of clear tape from among a variety of stacked office products and tech equipment.
He returned, tape in hand, but drew it back when Jordana reached to take it from him.
“Carys is moving out today.” When Jordana nodded, he narrowed his eyes on her. “Because of what happened last night between her and Aric?”
Jordana shook her head. “No. Because it’s time. She wants to live her life.”
Nathan made a dubious noise in the back of his throat. “What kind of a life do you expect she’ll have with a male like Rune?”
“It’s not my place to judge,” Jordana replied. “Besides, she’s moving in with me, not him. What happens between Carys and Rune is their business.”
“Until he hurts her. Or worse,” Nathan warned.
“Rune would never hurt Carys. He loves her—”
Nathan scoffed. “That what he’s telling her?”
Jordana frowned. “He’s told her as much, yes. But I see it when they’re together too. Carys and Rune are deeply in love.”
“And you’re some kind of expert in that emotion, I suppose.” Something dark glimmered in his unwavering gaze. “You can tell what’s in a man’s heart just by looking at him?”
Jordana had to work to keep from squirming in his presence. He wasn’t talking about Rune and Carys now. She knew that, but imagining he might be talking about himself was a path she didn’t dare tread.
Not here.
Not when she had nowhere to escape, even if she wanted to.
“Carys is a grown woman,” Jordana said, hoping to put the focus back where it belonged. “If she decides to be with Rune—even if she takes him as her blood-bonded mate someday—that’s entirely up to her. No matter what you or her family thinks would be best for her.”
“If you really believed that, I doubt you’d be with someone like Elliott Bentley-Squire.”
Jordana couldn’t even try to hide the fact that she was totally taken aback. “You know Elliott?”
He lifted his shoulder in a negligent shrug. “I know everything I need to know about him. I don’t find him all that interesting. Which makes me wonder why you do.” It was an impolite question, but Nathan didn’t seem to care. “You and Elliott Bentley-Squire have been a foregone conclusion for the past year, give or take.”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Long time,” Nathan said. “And yet no blood bond.”
Jordana frowned, feeling a need to defend herself. Elliott too. “He and I have known each other forever. Elliott has been a family friend since I was a child.” When Nathan’s face remained impassive, she said, “We’ll make things official when we’re ready. We’re in no hurry.”
“Apparently,” he agreed, but his tone was anything but light. “From what I’ve seen of the man’s professional résumé, it doesn’t indicate an inability to close a deal. So I’m guessing the problem must lie with you.”
“There is no problem,” she insisted, surprised at how desperately she wanted to convince him of that. Right now, standing just a foot away from Nathan in the seclusion of the supply room, she needed to convince herself that she belonged to Elliott Bentley-Squire. Jordana lifted her chin. “You seem to think you know a lot about Elliott and me. Do you make a practice of invading civilians’ privacy?”
“No. Only women who make it a practice of kissing me, then insisting to their presumptive mates that they have no idea who I am.”
Oh, God. Before he left the museum, Nathan must have heard her deny knowing him to Elliott. Jordana winced, remorseful now. She gave a mild shake of her head. “I’m sorry.”