Chapter 34 The Wrong Man in the Right Room
One minute Lyra was simply staring at the strange night visitor, trying to understand what on earth was happening, and the next, her mind went blank.
She didn’t even get the chance to inhale when the strange man grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her soundly.
His mouth crashed against hers like he had every right to claim her. Lyra gasped, her entire body jolting with shock. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if he’d been starved of her for years.
She pushed against his chest with her palms, using all the strength she had in her sleepy body.
“Stop!” Her words were muffled against his lips.
But he didn’t stop; if anything, he deepened the kiss.
His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close like he was afraid she would vanish if he let go for even a second.
Lyra shoved harder, but he didn’t budge. He was too strong, too sure she wanted this kiss, too comfortable in a place he absolutely should not have been in.
Fear ran through her bloodstream.
Who was this man?
Why was he kissing her like they belonged to each other?
And then, without warning, he grabbed her wrist, yanked her inside the room, and slammed the door shut behind them.
The loud thud made Lyra jump.
Finally, he let her go and she could breathe.
“What are you—?”
Before the sentence left her mouth, he was already peeling off his dusty turban.
Lyra was stunned. The face beneath it was shockingly handsome and strikingly young.
He didn’t look a day over twenty-five. His thick blonde hair was nearly the same shade as hers. His jawline was sharp, his eyes mischievous and dark, and both his sleeves were lined with tattoos that ran all the way to his wrists like vines wrapping his skin.
He looked like trouble. The kind of trouble a pompous girl like Irene would absolutely fall for.
But Lyra? Absolutely not.
When he began pulling off his jacket and trousers, Lyra snapped out of her shock.
“Stop!” she cried. “What are you doing?”
He paused only long enough to smirk. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t want to know. Don’t strip.”
But he chuckled, as if merely amused by her words. “I’m going to make you like every bit of what I have planned.”
And then, as if her terror wasn’t high enough, he reached into his bag and pulled out a variety of oddly sexual items.
Thick red ropes, fancy leather straps, long feathers, and tiny silver clamps she didn’t even want to imagine what they were used for.
Lyra couldn’t help it; she stumbled back.
“No!” she protested instantly, grabbing the bathrobe from the foot of the bed and throwing it over her nightdress like it was some armor to protect her from this delusional boy. “You can’t just do that! What is wrong with you?”
The boy chuckled, almost fondly. “Shy tonight, aren’t we?”
“Shy?” Lyra choked. “No! Horrified! You aren’t allowed to be here! If Darius… uhm, my father finds out—”
But the boy looked partly hurt, and something like disbelief flickered across his features.
“You’ve been gone for so long,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I know you missed me.”
Missed him? Lyra blinked rapidly.
He thought she was Irene. Maybe Irene would miss him, but certainly not her.
She shook her head. “I didn’t miss anything. I don’t even know—”
His eyes narrowed. “Did you get a new lover out there?”
“What? No!” Lyra said quickly, holding up her hands. “No new lover, no old lover, no lovers at all. I’m just not interested. Please leave.”
But instead of listening, he stepped even closer, his voice lowering to a whisper.
“Irene, you’re not acting yourself. Were you hurt during your journey?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, thumbs moving soothingly across her skin.
Then, without warning, he leaned down, kissing her neck.
Lyra stiffened and shoved him so hard he stumbled back.
“I am not Irene!” she blurted. “And I don’t know who you are!”
The boy froze.
His whole body tensed as if she had plunged a dagger straight into his chest.
“What?” he whispered. “Irene, you know exactly who I am.”
He pointed at himself, incredulous. “My name is Jacobson. I’m your boyfriend.”
Her stomach dropped.
Boyfriend?
He continued, “We’ve kept it hidden because you said your father would never approve. But you love being with me. Especially at night. We usually meet in the garden, but when you sent the maids away tonight, I knew it was an invitation.”
Lyra felt faint.
“It wasn’t an invitation,” she said firmly. “I sent them away because I wanted them to sleep. They looked exhausted! I’m not an invalid, Jacobson. I can take care of myself for one night.”
Jacobson stared at her like she’d grown another head.
“That’s ridiculous, Irene. This isn’t you. Why are you acting like this?” He stepped closer again. “Is this memory loss? Did something happen to you on the road back home?”
Lyra swallowed hard.
She couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d expose her in seconds.
“No,” she said calmly, forcing the words out. “I just think my journey has taught me a lot. I’m going to be a new person now.”
Jacobson’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. What was that you said earlier? About not being Irene?”
Lyra forced a smile that definitely looked fake.
“I didn’t say that. You misheard. I said I’m trying not to be your Irene tonight, which means I’m not interested in sex. Please. Just go.”
Jacobson scoffed. “I don’t believe you.” He pointed at the ropes. “You always want this. You beg me for—”
“Stop!” Lyra snapped, grabbing the doorknob. “Get out before I call the maids!”
For the first time since he arrived, Jacobson looked truly shocked.
He stared at her, at the door, then at the ropes still dangling from his hand.
Then slowly, he packed them back into his bag.
Lyra didn’t breathe until he pulled on his jacket.
But instead of heading for the door, he walked to the window and threw open the curtains, looking down.
Lyra’s jaw dropped. “What are you doing? We’re on the freaking top floor!”
Jacobson glanced back at her like she was the crazy one.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve come in through your window, Irene. Stop trying so hard to get rid of me.”
She gaped at him, pleading with him to use the door.
But he winked, and before she could say another word, he swung one leg over the ledge and jumped.
Lyra lunged toward the window with a gasp, but Jacobson had already vanished into the night like a
shadow, leaving her breathless, shaken, and horrified.
She pressed a hand to her racing heart.
“Oh goddess,” she whispered. “I am so, so doomed.”