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I went to step back, away from him, but he must have sensed the motion. He caught the end of the robe belt and held it lightly. If I stepped back, the loose knot would undo.
Part of me wanted to step back. Wanted to give in to the heat and power of what still lay between us. But the part of me that was still desperately clinging to sanity and reason made me hold still.
"What if I promise never to make you wait by a phone again?" he said softly.
My gaze searched his, saw the sincerity and the compassion and the hunger in the bright depths. I wanted to trust it - trust him - I really did. But I just couldn't.
"I don't believe in promises anymore. I don't believe in you. "
The words hurt him, as I knew they would. But the flash of pain in his eyes, and the lingering, aching regret in his expression gave me no sense of satisfaction at all. Because in truth, I didn't want to hurt him, and I didn't want retribution for all that he'd put me through. Part of me wanted to know why, but mostly I just wanted to get on with my life.
A life that didn't involve him. Didn't involve the hurt or the pain that he'd brought into my life.
"I've never promised you anything that I haven't delivered," he said eventually.
Maybe not out loud, but in deed and action you promised me the world. And then you ran away. "You promised to call me the minute you got back from Chicago, Brodie. But you never did. "
He blew out a breath and had the grace to look guilty. "There were reasons - "
"It's too late for reasons," I cut in. Too late for us.
"I refuse to believe that," he said, leaving me wondering whether he was answering the spoken or unspoken comment.
Then he stepped around the table, wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, and dragged me forward, into his arms. And kissed me.
This time, it wasn't a fleeting thing, but rather a long and erotic exploration that had my blood screaming through my veins and my heart threatening to jump out of my chest.
And oh, it was good, so good, to be kissed like that again. Like this moment and I were the only things that mattered to him, the only things that would ever matter to him.
It was a lie, of course, but one I was so ready to believe, even if only for this moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against his long, lean length, until I could feel his every intake of breath. Feel the rigid hardness of his erection pressing against my stomach. Lord, he felt good.
His free hand brushed my side, sliding teasingly past my breast. Something akin to electricity flashed through every nerve ending, and a low-down ache leapt into focus. Tiny beads of perspiration skated across my skin - moisture raised by the sheer heat of his body, and my own crazy longing.
I knew I should step away, should retreat from the kiss and from all the tangled, unsettled emotions that it raised. But I couldn't. Call me weak, call me a fool, but the reality of this kiss was so much better than the dreams that I could only stand there and enjoy.
It was just as well his cell phone chose that moment to ring, because we both knew where that kiss would have led otherwise.
Brodie growled low down in his throat, a sound that seemed to echo through my lips and body, then pulled away, his breathing harsh as he dragged the phone from his pocket.
"What?"
To say he sounded annoyed would be an understatement. It was probably the closest thing I'd heard to a gr
owl from him when he was still in human form.
His expression got darker as he continued to listen, and I knew without doubt it was work. I took a deep breath to regroup my thoughts and steady my riotous heart rate, then, rather determinately, tied a double knot on the dressing gown. It wouldn't stop him or me, but it was the action that mattered. It was a way of reminding my scattered self-control and exuberant hormones that I did have a choice, and that I could do what was best for me.
Although after that kiss, I wasn't so sure what, exactly, that was right now.
I picked up my coffee and moved back to the fire. I wasn't cold - far from it - but it was the farthest point away from him without getting too obvious about retreating.
He hung up and made another low, growly sound.
"Work?" I said, trying not to sound relieved and failing miserably.
He gave me a dark look. "Yeah, there's been another murder. "
My stomach sank. "But it's after midnight. "
