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She pulled back slightly and he immediately broke the kiss.
She stroked the back of his hand where it hugged the contour of her cheek. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Please do explain it to me.” He tried so hard to keep his voice light, his expression teasing.
She couldn’t know everything.
She had no idea that he’d nearly died a month ago and it had shaken him to the core and now he was questioning every decision he’d ever made. Especially the ones that had kept them apart.
“Before, we were hate-kissing. This is evasive-kissing. You don’t want me asking questions about your scars, about your past, and that’s why you kissed me. You want to distract me from your secrets.”
“Did it work?”
“It worked.” She moved his hand closer to her lips and kissed the center of his palm. The light touch of her lips sent shock waves reverberating through his body.
Shaken to the core.
The bedrock of his life cracking and shifting.
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“I thought you... you pulled away.”
“I only wanted to do this.” She dipped her head and kissed the base of his throat. He tipped his head back and allowed her to explore his throat, his collarbone, her lips and tongue tracing a path that led dangerously close to his scarred heart.
“My turn.” He kissed behind her ear. Greedy for the skin of her throat, the pulse at the base of her neck, her soft earlobes. Lingering perfume behind her ears. Where else did she apply the scent?
Her lips were so soft and she smelled so damned good. And she still tasted like whisky.
He’d been having the nightmare... the one where he rose above his body and watched the blood drain away and his skin turn blue...
He kissed her to drive away the memory of the nightmare.
She was so warm and supple in his arms. Not the Indy he’d placed on a pedestal, like a saint in a stained-glass window. The imperfect, contradictory woman in his arms. She made his blood sing a new song. A song about wanting to live.
Wanting to build something new.
She made a sudden movement with her head and his teeth jarred against her teeth. She pulled back, laughing softly. “That wasn’t very pleasant.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find our way. Evasive-kissing requires practice.” He nipped at her lower lip with his teeth and she responded by giving him a love-bite on his lips.
Give and take.
Fire and ice.
He’d known it would be like this. Too perfect. He’d known her heat would start to melt away the layers of ice his heart was preserved inside.
Her hands at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.
His hands surrounding her throat, his thumbs stroking the proud lines of her jaw.
“I dream about you sometimes,” she whispered. “I had a dream tonight.”
He’d lain awake so many nights thinking of her. He’d imagined her in his bed. Heard her moaning his name. No one else had the same low, seductive voice.
And no one else had her unique smile, that knowing curve of her lips that he’d been searching for on other faces and never found. She had the smile of a Roman goddess, immortalized in metal and stamped onto a coin.
Stamped onto his heart.
