“I don’t speak Arabic. I just know a few sentences, and don’t touch anything.” He held my probing hand. “There are breakable things here.”
“Yes, there are. You’re a brute. I’ll tell my father how poorly you’ve treated me.”
“Then he’ll have me flogged, remember? You don’t want that.”
“Maybe I do.”
He chuckled. “We’re going down a flight of stairs. I’d suggest you focus on your steps and think about where you put those pretty feet of yours.”
I flushed, glad he wouldn’t see my reddened cheeks under the cloth. “Even my feet are pretty?”
“Careful.” He laughed. “Everything about you is pretty.”
Oh, goodness.
He held my hands while we climbed down and down. The air turned chilly and smelled of moss. Not an ounce of fear or worry coursed through me, though. I did trust him after all. He could be taking me anywhere. No one knew I was there—wherever there was. Anything could happen to me.
My heartbeat remained stable, and my hands didn’t sweat. His arm coiled around my waist and pressed me against him. His warmth reached my skin, and my breath hitched.
“Are you scared?” he asked, the amusement gone from his tone. “Is this too much?”
“No.”
His fingers sprawled over my waist. “Glad to hear it.”
“Did you mean what you said last night?” I asked as he helped me down another flight of stairs.
“Every word.” Even in the darkness, I could tell he was watching me. The weight of his stare was like a caress on my skin. His voice sounded low and intense.
“Oh,” was all I managed to say.
“Surprised?” he asked, pulling me closer. His breath feathered over my cheek.
“Well, it doesn’t happen every day... men usually don’t, you know... I’m not such a stunning woman.” I was stammering and staggering. Brilliant.
“That’s not true.” His whispered words rang intimate and personal, causing my breath to come out faster. “But it’s true that men can be stupid.”
I let out a nervous chuckle.
“And did you mean it?” he asked as we walked along a flat stretch.
“What?”
“When you asked me to touch you, did you mean it? Or was it the green serum?”
I leant against him. “I meant every word.”
He growled. “Bugger me.”
Maybe it was the darkness that gave the illusion of privacy. Or maybe it was just me, but I put a hand on his chest, stopping him. He didn’t ask what I was doing, thank goodness, because I didn’t know. I explored the hard wall of his chest until I touched his neck and slid my hand over his nape. Pulse thundering, I pulled him down. He hesitated, but I didn’t as I pressed my lips against his. The kiss started a burst of emotions that went through me down to my toes. He cupped my cheek with infinite gentleness and rubbed his thumb over the curve of my jaw while his lips moved over mine. It wasn’t like kissing Sandro. The kiss had all the raw intensity Rennie possessed. Not perfect but passionate and wild. It made my body sensitive. I pressed myself against him shamelessly. He caressed my back, waist, and bottom, grazing my lips. I was shivering in his arms, but he withdrew.
“Monia,” he whispered. Desperation and pain filled the single word. “I can’t.”
I licked my bottom lip so I could still taste him. “I know.”
He hugged me, pressing me against his body, and tucked my head under his chin. I rested my cheek over his chest right where the pounding of his heart screamed for me.
“We’re almost there,” he said, brushing his lips over my cheek.
