An Illicit Obsession (Mila and Killian) novel Chapter 6

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Mila's POV

My feet froze. He cannot be doing this—not when Franny is so close and could see us. The onyx ring on his index finger glinted under the rays of the setting sun streaming through the glass-fronted wall of the shop.

“What about this?” he asked, pointing at a pendant on a silver chain displayed on the counter. Our hands were just a breath apart. I remembered those fingers brushing against my lips yesterday, and I could imagine what it might feel like to fall back into his arms.

I shook off the thought and tried to step out of his personal space—or so I thought—but my feet seemed to have a mind of their own. I ended up flat against his chest. D*mn it! He circled his arms around my waist, a faint smile playing on his lips. He’s devastatingly beautiful. His hold was steady, but my heart was racing.

“Are you always this clumsy, or is it me who makes you slip?” His voice turned my insides to liquid, but his words made me narrow my eyes.

F*ck off, I wanted to say, but instead, I swallowed the words and settled for a quiet, “Sorry.” I stepped back, putting some distance between us.

If I didn’t react, he’d lose whatever interest he had. Don’t act. Keep it neutral. The strategy almost always worked. I couldn’t let him know how much he affected me.

“Don’t be,” he said, tilting his head. The darkness in his eyes could’ve turned anyone’s blood to ice, but I was drawn to them. The danger they held pulsed through my veins, yet behind all of it, when he looked directly at me, there was something akin to tenderness. That mix might just be lethal to my heart. I stepped back again, and he followed.

I raised a hand to stop him, but he only came closer, his eyes challenging me and chipping away at my resolve.

“Mr. Knight, you should stop,” I said firmly.

I needed to make things clear. Avoidance wouldn’t work with this man.

“What did I tell you to call me?” His tone held a threat, turning husky toward the end.

Before I realized it, I was cornered between two shelves, hidden from view. “You have to stop,” I repeated, looking straight into his eyes. I wasn’t afraid of him.

“Stop what?” He raised a hand, resting it on the shelf beside me, caging me in. Suddenly, I felt small under his intense gaze.

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

The teasing glint in his eyes and the faint smile softened his face, heat blooming in my cheeks. I looked away.

“You’re…”

“Yes?”

“Flirting with me,” I said through gritted teeth. Saying it out loud felt ridiculous.

“You’re married. Maybe you don’t have principles, but I do!” My annoyance was evident, though it frustrated me more that my body betrayed me around him. I tried to push him away, but he caught my hand, pressing it flat against his chest.

“You’re being absolutely inappropriate—ah!” Something tugged painfully at my hair. I reached back, but he was quicker, concern flashing across his face. He came closer, inspecting it above my head, his scent—like freshly brewed coffee—enveloping me.

“Don’t move, love,” he murmured, his other hand cradling the back of my head. I relaxed as he untangled whatever it was, warmth washing over me. I look at him, admiring the angle of his jaw and the define angle of his nose, the soft concern look in his deep dark eyes and I find my self learn towards him.

“Here you go. Are you alright?” He straightened my hair, softly patting the back of my head. Looking at him now, he seemed younger, more handsome. Our eyes met briefly before I looked away and cleared my throat. I need to keep my thoughts in check.