“For most of the meeting.” Rolling to his side, he reached out and laced his hand through hers.
“What did you do during the other portion?” she asked, distracted by the soft tickle of his thumb on her palm.
“Think about what I would do once I got up here.” His eyes glowed.
“I believe you planned to give me a message.” She pulled her hand from his and sat up. He sat up as well, adjusted a thin rope that crossed his chest, and leaned against the back of the sofa.
“Mother said he will be late picking up the batch. Something urgent has arisen.” Malik waved his hand in a vague motion. “You have earned a reprieve.”
“You could have told me that from the ground.” Zenna frowned. Winding her hair around her arm, she mentally counted the loops. On the final wrap, she glanced up. “What of your engagement?”
“I am not engaged, and I have never been. My father wishes to attach me to one of the daughters of a rival boss to ease tensions between the two sides.” Malik shifted and tugged at the strap again. “I have no intention of marrying Tessa or any other woman for the sake of his business.”
“No one refuses your father.” She shoved the bundle of hair underneath the armoire, unwrapping it from the leg.
“I did.” He pulled the rope over his head and held out a small sack. “I brought you something.”
“What is it?” Her gaze dropped to the bag.
“Take it.”
She scuttled forward and snatched the sack from his outstretched hand. His other hand closed around her wrist and dragged her across the stone floor toward him.
“Let me go!” She swung the sack at his face, but he caught her other arm with his free hand and anchored them both behind her back.
“It’s rude to hit someone who brings you a gift.” His chastisement held a trace of humor. “Before you proceed with your misplaced vengeance, perhaps you should look in the bag.”
“I can’t, my arms are incapacitated.” She glowered at him.
He snickered and released her. She sat back on her feet, smoothed the apron out over her legs, and placed the sack in her lap. After prying apart the strings, she stuck her hand in the bag.
“Grapes?” She pulled out a bunch of the deep purple fruit.
“Leftover from lunch.” His mouth crooked into a sheepish grin. “There’s cheese in there, too. I thought you might enjoy something other than bread and water.”
Pulling off a grape, she placed it on her tongue and pressed the fruit against the roof of her mouth until it exploded, and juice rolled down her chin. She giggled and wiped her hand across her lips.
“Delicious.”
“I brought you one other thing.” He gestured to the bag. “Dig deeper.”
Curious, Zenna stuck her hand back into the bag, and her fingers brushed over something cold and metallic. Shock vibrated through her body. She removed her hand from the sack and opened her palm—inside rested the silver heart necklace. Her head whipped up.
“Why would you do this?” she asked, her eyes widening. According to Mother, there was no greater offense than theft. Malik had condemned himself to death.
“It wasn’t his to take.” Leaning forward, Malik lifted the necklace from her hand and fastened it around her neck. His fingers lingered around her throat, drawing soft circles around the bruises left by Mother.
She grabbed Malik’s hands, stilling them, and rose on her knees, leveling her gaze with him.
“Mother will kill you.”
“Are you so concerned for my life? I thought you believed me a liar.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“You have redeemed yourself.” Zenna released him. One fingertip stroked over the charm. “Thank you for returning the necklace, but I don’t understand why you needed to climb up here to give it to me.”
“My father commanded I return to my territory immediately, but I couldn’t leave without…” He sighed and dragged a hand through his shaggy hair. “I’ve been with many women—I have quite a lot of experience in that particular pursuit—but I’ve never had the reaction I did when I kissed you this morning.”
“You want to kiss me goodbye?” she asked, her voice laced with the confusion running wildly through her body.
“Goodbye, goodnight, good morning…” He inched closer, and his arms slipped around her neck.
“Dinner?”
Malik paused, his lips millimeters from hers. “Are you inviting me to dinner?”
“You did bring me grapes and cheese.” She smiled.
“There’s only one thing I want.” His eyes blazing, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Sliding his hands down her back, he grabbed her waist, yanking her on top of him. His hand moved down her hip, pushing aside the apron and slipping under the hem of her shirt, then closed around the knife strapped to her thigh.
“Armed again?” he murmured against her lips. Unfastening the strap buckle, he pulled the sheath from her leg and tossed it onto the sofa, his hand returning to her thigh.
She gasped as his tongue dove into her mouth, tangling with hers. His grip tightened, guiding her hips into a grinding motion as his hard length pressed between her thighs. Overwhelming sensations rolled through her limbs as if every nerve were alive and burning at the same moment. She feared her body would rip apart.
Breaking the kiss, Zenna tipped her head back, her body moving against Malik. Digging his fingers into her hips, he increased her tempo, his lips trailed across the hollow of her throat. Her stomach clenched, winding tighter and tighter.
“Malik.” She panted his name, apprehension echoing in the room.
“Let go,” he growled, the word vibrating through her body, and nipped at her throat.
“Ma—” She screamed, an explosion rocking her body. His arms wound around her waist pulled her roughly against his chest as she quivered. The tremors subsided, and she drew in a shaky breath.
“I assume that was a first,” he said as she pushed away from him.
She nodded, acutely aware of the cool breeze blowing across her bare legs. Warmth spread through her face, the blush traveling through her skin until she was certain her entire body glowed pink.
Engines revved in the distance. Malik’s head whipped toward the window, and he paled.
“Who is it?” Zenna whispered her question, knowing the answer before Malik spoke.
“He must have completed his business early.” Malik turned his attention back to her, his eyes mirroring the fear bubbling in Zenna’s chest. “Is there anywhere to hide?”
“The loft.” She gestured at the staircase. “Mother never goes up there.”
Malik nodded once and still holding Zenna, climbed to his feet. He drew one finger down the side of her cheek.
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“That wasn’t the favor.” He set her down, then grabbing the sack from the floor, and stuffed the grapes into the bottom. The sound of the motorcycles intensified, their thunderous roar echoed in the compound. He glanced up, an apology in his eyes.
“You need to give me the necklace.”
She took a step backward and shook her head, her hand flying to the charm.