Chapter 8 You are driving me crazy

Mila's POV

I pushed my phone to the far corner of the dresser.

Killian shut the door and leaned against the wall beside it.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"What are you doing here?"

"It's my place."

"It's my room for now."

"Given by me."

"So what? Would you like me to leave, then?" I raised an eyebrow.

"On the contrary." He cocked his head to one side, his dark eyes locking with mine. My gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips, then to his hands. They were large, with long, lean fingers. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing the defined muscles of his forearms.

"Then I suggest you leave," I said, swallowing hard as I forced myself to look away.

"Do you really want me to?" he asked, crossing his ankles and slipping his hands into his pockets. I met his dark gaze, my lips parting involuntarily. He straightened, no teasing smile or playful glint in his eyes-just raw intent.

Killian's intentions were clear, but logic screamed at me not to give in. I couldn't. Not now. Not when I'd be gone tomorrow.

"Well, then I'll leave," I said, brushing past him toward the door. In one stride, he closed the space between us, stealing the air from my lungs.

My hands fell to my sides as I looked up at him, breathless. "Are you scared, love?" His voice was low, his hand brushing lightly against my hair and shifting it to my shoulder without touching me fully.

Every nerve in my body tightened in anticipation of his touch, even as I tried to resist. The warmth of his hand was maddeningly close. I shook my head in response. He circled behind me, his fingers grazing my bare shoulder as he straightened my hair. I bit my lip, trying to turn but only catching glimpses of him from the corner of my eye.

"I'm used to it," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. Heat spread through me, reaching places I didn't know could burn.

"It's easy to see the wariness in people's eyes-the fear," he continued, his breath against my skin sending shivers down my spine. I fought with every shred of control not to lean into him. If he came any closer, if he kissed me, I would lose it.

"They sense the danger," he said, his voice a low rumble. If my heartbeat got any faster, my ribs might break.

"But you... you're never scared."

I felt the danger. It didn't push me away-it pulled me closer.

"Maybe you're not that scary," I said.

"Hm."

That deep, resonant sound sent another shiver through me.

"Am I not?"

Before I could respond, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me flush against his chest. I gasped, melting into his touch as his hands slid from my shoulder to my forearm, finally clasping my hands against my stomach.

His nose trailed from my chin to my neck, and I arched instinctively, silently granting him access. My head fell back onto his shoulder as the last remnants of my control dissolved. This man is going to kill me.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispered.

"Mila!" Franny's voice shattered the moment.

I quickly freed myself from his hold, rushing to the door before she could see him. My eyes widened in horror as I felt the strings of my bikini top come loose. My hands flew to my chest, holding the fabric in place.

"It would be ill-advised to move, love," Killian said, amusement lacing his voice. I glanced over my shoulder to see my strings caught on his shirt button. Why did my luck always betray me?

"Shh. Don't make a noise," he said, stepping closer as the door handle began to turn. I froze, unable to breathe.

The ground seemed to vanish beneath me as Killian scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom, shutting the door behind us.

"Mila!" Franny called again.

"For God's sake, answer her," Killian muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I'm in the bathroom!" I called out, my voice shaky.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes! I'll be there in a minute. You should go-Mother will be looking for you!" I heard her steps retreating and sighed in relief, burying my face in Killian's neck. My heart pounded, but his scent was oddly comforting.

"She has terrible timing," Killian said softly.

I looked up at him, whisper-scolding, "This is all your fault!" Amusement sparkled in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you," I groaned.

"You can try later, love. I won't even flinch," he whispered.

"But for now, let me handle this. Don't move." We stood before the mirror as he worked to untangle the strings. I caught sight of our reflection, his focused expression sending heat flooding under my skin. --- His gaze dropped to my exposed back, and his expression turned cold and dark.

Suddenly, the room's temperature seemed to drop. He brushed his fingers down the middle of my back, right where... I jumped, spinning around to face him, my hand instinctively flying to cover my back. My hair fell forward as if to shield the marks from view, but I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Thank you," I muttered quickly, trying to redirect his attention.

"But now you need to-" My words cut off as his hard stare pinned me in place. He stepped closer, crowding me against the basin. His hand reached out, and he gently brushed my hair aside, revealing the scars again in the mirror. His fingers traced the raised lines with a deliberate slowness that made my skin burn, the contrast between his touch and his expression nearly unbearable.

"Who?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"W-what?" I stammered, hating the vulnerability that crept into my voice.

"Who did this to you?" I swallowed hard, trying to shake away the tight lump forming in my throat. It wasn't the first time my scars had been seen, but it was the first time someone asked about them.

And I didn't understand why he cared.

"It was a long time ago," I said, forcing a scoff to cover the sting in the back of my eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters if it can bring tears to your eyes," he countered, his tone softening just enough to make me falter. I met his gaze head-on, forcing steel into my voice.

"It was an accident," I lied, glaring. "And it's none of your business."

His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, circling his arms around my thighs to lift me onto the counter. He leaned in, trapping me with his presence, and grabbed my chin to make me look at him.

"I've already warned you-I don't tolerate lies," he said, his voice steady but edged with quiet fury.

"And everything about you is my business." "Killian-" My voice trembled, hating how small I sounded, how exposed I felt.

"Mila," he said in a warning tone. "You can tell me, or I can find out on my own. It will just save my time."

"Why?" My voice cracked as the lump in my throat grew heavier, the corner of my eyes burning. "Why does it matter to you? What right do you have?" I shoved at his chest, but he didn't move-he was too strong. All the times I had pushed him away before, I realized now, it was because he let me.

"Tell me why!" I demanded, my voice rising in frustration. "What is it to you?" Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as anger and confusion bubbled inside me.

"Tell me-" Before I could finish, his lips crashed into mine, silencing everything. His kiss demanded surrender, and I gave in, pulling him closer with my legs wrapped around his waist. For a moment, there was no space, no air, just us-his touch, his heat, his demand. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath. "Should I explain my right, now?" he murmured, his breath mingling with mine. "You shouldn't do this to me," I whispered.

"It's already happening to us," he replied, his voice firm yet tender. He raised his head, meeting my gaze as his thumb brushed softly against my cheek.

"The name, Mila."

"It was thirteen years ago," I whispered, my resolve crumbling under his gaze.

"Who?"

I have a bad feeling about where this was going.