Page 202 of The Fifth Heir

Only a small distance remained between us.

“I haven’t forgiven you.”

“I know.”

“I may not.”

“I know that too.”

The study runes deepened to red.

Leander’s eyes dropped to my mouth.

He lifted one hand but stopped before touching me.

“If I kiss you,” he said, “will you believe I’m trying to purchase forgiveness?”

“I’m not selling it.”

“No.”

His fingers brushed my jaw.

“Tell me to stop.”

I should have.

Instead, I caught the front of his coat and pulled him toward me.

The choice was not forgiveness. It was an answer to the desire I was done pretending I did not feel.

Leander kissed me with all the control he applied to everything else.

For one second.

Then his hand closed behind my neck.

He pushed me back against the desk, and the legal volumes slid beneath my hands. His mouth opened over mine. Cold moved from his fingers into my heated skin, sharp enough to make me gasp.

He kissed deeper.

I gripped his coat, holding him close while anger and desire collided inside me. The wall runes turned red-white, shifting too quickly to settle.

Leander’s other hand found my waist.

I felt how much he wanted me through his trousers.

The physical proof broke through the last of his polished distance.

I moved against him.

He made a rough sound and pulled away.

Both of us were breathing hard.

“That was a mistake,” he said.

Anger returned immediately. “Which part?”