13

KATHARINE

I HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING AGAIN, so I tiptoed down the hall, pushing open Richard’s door. Tonight, he was on his stomach, one arm wrapped around his pillow, the other one hanging off the edge of his massive bed. He was still snoring—his low, raspy hum I needed to hear.

I studied his face in the dim light. I traced my lips with my finger, still

shocked at the fact he had kissed me, held me in his arms, and we danced. I knew it was all part of his grand scheme, but there were moments, glimpses, of a different man than I was used to seeing. The flash of a smile, a twinkle in his eye, even a kind word—they had all caught me off-guard tonight. I wished he allowed that part of himself out more, but he kept his emotions—the positive ones—locked away. I had already figured that out. I knew if I said anything, he would lock himself down even more. So, I remained silent—at least for now. I had to admit though, kissing him hadn’t been bad at all. Considering the venom his mouth could prod