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"You will. You'd relate well to teens. There's no bullshit with you."
Her laugh, husky and thick like honey, rose in the air and stroked his ears. His dick thickened. "Maybe you're right. I used to fear nothing. Once I got sober, I realized I was afraid of everything. Stupid, right?"
Devine couldn't help himself--there was no way not to touch her. He made the leap and intertwined his fingers with hers. His soul sighed. "'Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear,'" he quoted.
A frown ruffled her brow. "Damn. Umm, Roosevelt."
"Nope."
"Wait! Mark Twain!"
"And how are you not a college graduate?" he teased.
"I swear I'm not a huge reader, but I like quotes. Stories about people who overcame odds or used their fame for good."
"That's reading."
She laughed again. "Yeah, I guess it is."
They walked the rest of the way back, hands clasped, enjoying the still, starry night, caught in a moment Devine knew he would always remember. When they returned to the car, he opened her door and drove back to her cottage.
The air changed between them, charging up like a battery gone haywire. His fingers clenched the steering wheel with each passing mile, as he didn't know how to break the climbing tension. He pulled over to the curb and turned to her.
"I had a really nice time."
She refused to look at him, fiddling with her seat belt. "Yes, me, too. Thanks for dinner. I better go."
She flew out of the car.
Cursing under his breath, he climbed out and followed her. When he reached the top step, her odd fear had leaked away and been replaced by the fierce determination he adored. "Look, it was a great night but we made a deal. I don't need you escorting me to the door, or making moony eyes and pretending this is going to be something it's not."
Navy-blue eyes burned with temper. His dick wept and it was all he could do not to back her against the door and kiss her savagely. "I don't make moony eyes at anyone. I take offense to that remark."
"Good night, Liam."
He moved into her space. "Are you attracted to me?"
The air escaped her lungs in a soft whoosh. His gaze flicked down her body, noting her tightening nipples against the fine lace of her bodice. She was practically shaking, and they hadn't even touched yet. "That's a ridiculous question."
"No it's not. Are you attracted to me?" She shifted her weight, struggling for the answer. "If you're not, I'll leave. I'm not out to force myself on anyone. But don't lie."
"I don't lie!" she said hotly.
"Are you?"
"Yes! But I don't intend to do a thing about it. This experiment is over, Liam. You need to finish what you started at Kinnections and we need to avoid each other. You deserve a woman who can be a perfect wife. You deserve kids and a white picket fence and dogs. You deserve it all."
He leaned in. "So do you," he growled. "Maybe it's time I prove it."
Shock and arousal dilated her pupils. Her lips parted for air. "I'm not out for a quick screw," she shot out. "Just because we did it once doesn't mean I'm an easy target."
"Sweetheart, you couldn't be easy if you tried. I knew even that night you were the one who chose, not the other way around."
Her arms lifted as if to touch him, then dropped back down as if she'd gotten burned. The intoxicating scent of her invaded his nostrils: sweet and spicy, tinged with feminine arousal. He'd allowed her to lead because she needed to feel in charge, but he also knew when actions spoke louder than words. In his job, and his life, Devine followed an instinct that had never guided him wrong--an innate sense of when to push and when to back off.
Right now, he needed to push.
He moved.
It only took three steps to back her against the screen door. His arms caged her in. He braced his thighs apart, trapping her. He kept just enough space between their bodies so she had the time needed to transition without trying to bolt.
"I'm honored you feel the need to push me straight into another woman's perfect arms, but I'm here to tell you there is no perfect woman. And I'm sure as hell not perfect either. So, here's the deal, Isabella. I'm going to kiss you."
"What?" she squeaked out. She pushed against his chest briefly, then rested her palms over his beating heart. The move alone told him she wanted this as badly as he did. "We can't."
"We can. I haven't forgotten that night. Ever. It was the best damn sex I ever had. Even then, I wanted more, but it wasn't our time."
"Liam."
His name spilled from her lips in a sultry whisper, dissipating high above the stars. "Don't think. Don't worry." He lowered his head with deliberate slowness, wanting to savor every second. "Just kiss me."
His lips covered hers.
The years melted away. Her soft mouth trembled, then opened beneath his. He swallowed her groan and slipped inside, drinking in the sweet sting of her flavor, reminding him again of bourbon laced with maple syrup. They learned each other all over again until the kiss caught fire, and she sunk her teeth into his bo
ttom lip.
A primitive growl rose from his throat and he rose to the demand. Twisting his fingers in her glorious hair, he pinned her open under the length of his thigh and ravaged her. His teeth nipped; he soothed with his tongue, claimed her as his.
She gave it back, sinking into a wild thing who exploded in his arms, challenging him at every turn. They feasted on each other, with a touch of the savage, her fingernails digging into the muscles of his arms, her breasts pressed tightly against his chest, her body arched with a demand he intended to serve. He got lost, got found, and fell hard within that one perfect, soul-stirring kiss.
Head spinning, breathing hard, he pulled away inch by inch. His dick screamed to take advantage of the moment, back her into the house, and take her now before she protested. But that wasn't what he wanted. When he got Isabella into his bed, she'd be damned sure she wanted to be there wholeheartedly.
Her eyes were glazed, her lips swollen and moist. He fought against the primal flood of arousal and clawed for control. "Liam?" His name was a beautiful question, and an answer he needed her to get used to.
"I want you." She shuddered in response. He bent toward her, forehead pressing against hers, hand cupping her cheek. "I want to strip off these clothes, touch and taste every inch of your skin, feel you come against my lips. I want to swallow you whole, make you scream, and do it again and again. Do you understand, Isabella?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I don't know if I can do this."
"You can. You just need time to get used to the idea."
She shook her head, pulling away, and Devine knew he'd lost her again. "Don't start something that's going to cause both of us too much pain. Please."
Her broken plea tore at his heart, shredding his insides. He lifted his hand in the air. "Sweetheart--"
"Good night, Liam."
She turned from him and disappeared inside, leaving him alone on her porch. He stood there for a while, caught between pushing her now and giving her some space.
Better to retreat and prepare the second phase of attack.
chapter seven
A COUPLE DAYS LATER, Izzy pulled into the Animals Alive shelter with a sense of purpose and excitement.
Liam's kiss haunted her.
She'd hoped if he ever kissed her again, the reality would never match the misty memory of that special night. Instead, the touch of his lips on hers shattered the past forever. Her body practically melted against him, helpless against his hot demand to surrender.
