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Her team back at the wildlife park couldn’t work out why.
She’d gone through everything she could think of with them as she’d walked away from the reception, questioning everything from the cheetahs’ food supply, the enclosure’s temperature, to the deodorant her team was currently using. It was only when cool sand slipped around her toes that she realized she’d followed the meandering path through the lush resort gardens that led to the beach.
An almost ten-minute conversation with no conclusion.
Staring at the cloud-encroached moon, she balled her fists. Dio, she felt useless. And disconnected.
Hot tears prickled at the back of her eyes, and she blinked them back. She pictured the two adorable kittens. Remembered how Noxolo had nuzzled the little form of her stillborn female kitten. Perhaps Noxolo was in trauma? Perhaps if Zeta went back home now and was there for the mother cheetah, Mandla would start to get the attention he needed and would start to thrive?
Surely Bria wouldn’t mind if she flew back to the States earlier than intended? Like tonight?
“Well, at least I know you weren’t abducted.”
Heart slamming into her throat, she spun around.
Mick walked toward her across the sand, the pale moonlight barely revealing the lopsided smile on his lips. “By aliens, I mean. When you didn’t come back, I was worried you’d been…” he paused, a frown replacing his smile. “Hey, everything okay? You look—”
She burst into tears. She didn’t mean to. But she did. Stupid hot fat tears.
“Hey?” Mick’s arms suddenly smoothed around her. “Hey, hey, hey?”
She buried her face into his shirt, her fingers gripping his jacket lapels. Poor Mandla. Being cut off from his family, feeling alone and lonely and…and…abandoned.
“Shhh,” Mick whispered against the top of her head, his breath warm. “Shhh, what’s up? How can I fix it?”
She shook. Shuddered with more stupid hot fat tears. Poor, poor little guy. She should be there for both the kittens, to help them. Why had she left them? Being left hurt so much. Family wasn’t meant to do that. More tears squeezed from her eyes, and she pressed her face harder into his chest.
“Shhh,” Mick whispered, holding her. Just holding her. His chin rested on the top of her head while his hands smoothed small circles over her back. “Shhh, it’ll be okay. Don’t cry, beautiful one. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
She pulled away a little, still holding his lapels, and looked up at him, studying his face in the soft moonlight. Of all the people to find her in this moment, to be the one to see her so weak and vulnerable, of course it had to be him. He’d never let her live this down.
A tender chuckle, so soft it barely feathered over her senses, fell from him.
“What?” she mumbled, her heart aching. “Why are you laughing?”
He lifted one hand and lightly brushed his thumb over her cheek just below her right eye, his lips curling in a gentle smile. Worry swam in his gaze. “Clearly not waterproof mascara.”
She gave an entirely unladylike sniff but didn’t look away. He was there, so warm, so strong, so solid and holding her so gently. He didn’t look at her like she was annoying. He looked at her like he genuinely cared. And her heart hurt so much. She was losing everything she held dear—her sisters—and now, one of her kittens wasn’t thriving, and Dio, he was so warm, and his smile was so gentle, and his gaze so concerned.
He brushed his knuckle over her cheek again, softer this time. “Are you okay, beautiful one? Can I help? In any way at—”
She pulled him down to her height by his lapels and captured his mouth with hers again. He kissed her back. No hesitation. No question. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, down to the curve of her butt to pull her closer to him. To fit her to his body.
She moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair, pushing her hips to his. It felt right to be held like this by him, to be distracted and comforted like this by him. It was what she needed right at this moment.
And every moment?
She growled into his mouth, silencing the annoying thought, and rolled her hips again. He growled in return, his hands cupping her ass cheeks. His tongue slid over hers, and she met his hunger in return. Dio, he was an incredible kisser. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, his teeth, his hands. A tremble swept through her, and the junction of her thighs grew damp. Her breasts ached, wanting his hands on them. Her nipples puckered, wanting his mouth.
If he flattened her to the sand right now, if he shoved his hand under the hem of her dress and found her wet sex, she wouldn’t stop him.
She wanted him to do that. She wanted—
She yanked away and took a step back. Her breath fell from her in ragged bursts, and she studied him in the dark, the faint moonlight highlighting the lines and planes of his face. Goddamn it, why did he have to be so good-looking even in the freaking dark?
“You kissed me,” he said. A roughened huskiness scratched through the words. He was as shaken as she was. Good.
Licking her bottom lip, she gave him a jerky nod. “I did.”
