"That's rude, Maya..." he said, voice deceptively soft, like velvet laced with steel.
Maya’s eyes locked on his, soft but unreadable behind that goddamn mask.
There was no colour she could name—just a depth that made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to admit how curious she was, how she kept wondering what the face behind that mask looked like. Was it rugged? Cold? Sinfully handsome?
She shook the thought away like a curse.
“I don’t care if it’s rude,” she muttered and turned her back to him. “I’m done talking to you.”
She barely took two steps before he moved—quick and calculating. His hand met her shoulder, firm but not forceful, and with a gentle push, he sent her falling backwards. Her body hit the mattress with a bounce, her butt landing squarely on the edge of the bed.
“Moth
