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And Connor remembered his mother, which made her really sad in another way at the same time.
So for the next few minutes, she wept. She kept feeling the rumble beneath the bridge as the old stones spoke to her, telling their horrible secret.
She should have died out there. Connor as well.
A box of tissues appeared and she blew her nose. She then rose upright, meeting his gaze. “You saved us.”
“So did you.” He frowned as he stared at her. “We can call it even.”
“I don’t think it’s even at all. You didn’t have to do anything. You could have just taken off and left me there, but you didn’t. You picked me up.”
“And you didn’t have to warn me. But you did.”
Her smile was crooked. “I had some self-interest in the matter.”
At that, he smiled as well.
Oh, God, he was even better-looking when he showed some teeth. For a moment, she was drawn away from the disaster on the bridge. Connor was handsome as hell. His eyes were blue and intense, he had strong cheekbones, a straight nose with a sexy dip at the bridge, and arched eyebrows. He wore his dark brown hair pulled away from his face, the upper portion bound in a leather strap. The rest was wavy and hung to his shoulders. She loved the look on him.
He didn’t look a day over thirty, though she knew from web-browsing that he’d been one of the early alters and had some years on him. Long-life had been the trade-off for the heinous change that had made him a vampire and her a witch.
She took another sip of wine then caught Connor’s arm. “Thank you. Seriously. I’m more grateful than words can possibly express.”
~ ~ ~
Connor couldn’t breathe. The forbidden woman of his dreams had her hand on his arm and once more that strange powerful energy radiated where she touched him. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay in this position for about a year, looking at her, feeling her hand on him.
He was nothing but grateful as well that Iris was still alive. His own ass, he hardly cared about. But Iris was a good woman, someone who should stay as far away from him as she could. If it ever made sense for her to date a vampire, he should be a last choice, not a first.
His gaze fell to her lips. He’d imagined kissing her, plunging his tongue deep, letting her feel what he really wanted to be doing.
When she sighed, he searched her eyes. She shifted toward him just enough and her breathing changed, higher in her chest.
Her l
ips parted.
If ever there was an invitation …
She wanted the kiss and that was something he hadn’t expected. Was it possible she was into him?
“Iris?”
She blinked and caught her breath, then turned back to the island. She picked up her wine once more and took a long drink.
He’d always been certain he was alone in his interest, which in many ways had kept him safe. Now he knew something very different to be true.
His heart started pounding and he couldn’t move. He should have though, because he saw the mounds of her ass through her torn clothes. He leaned close and breathed in deep. “You smell like your garden.”
She chuckled, then sniffed. “And you smell like a blown up bridge with just a hint of leather.” She glanced at him, her lips swollen as hell, ready to be plundered. But a sheen of tears covered her eyes once more.
What the hell was he thinking? She was feeling vulnerable and he couldn’t take advantage of her. Besides, he needed to be smart. She was a witch and could kill him with one touch of her fingers to either his temple or the base of his skull.
The breath he released sounded like a hiss of steam.
He nodded, then looked away from her. His frown deepened as he rounded the island once more to pour himself a glass. He drank along with her, but stayed on the other side of the thick slab of granite. His brow had a tight, pinched feel as he stared at nothing in particular.
A change of subject would help.
