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“Oh.”
He felt the instant the knowledge sunk in, and she believed it. In that moment, he hated the task in front of him, hated how he must destroy the easy contentment between them with the truth, hated that he would be the one to cause her fear. But he knew the truth was necessary if there were to be any hope for a future together.
Lillian managed to take a bite of the eggs, but she barely tasted them. Thankfully, Tristan had turned his attention to his own meal, leaving her to her thoughts, which were mostly chaotic. She ate as much as she could, then brought her dish to the sink and scraped the leftovers into the garbage disposal.
He followed with his own empty plate. “That’s all you can eat? You’ve barely made a dent in your eggs.”
“I’m afraid I’m still a bit nauseous. Can we go and see your mom now?” she asked after he’d opened the dishwasher, and she’d placed her fork and plate inside. Now that she was feeling better, it was high time to repay her debt and move on.
“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?”
“Yes, since I’ve been fed. Thanks for making me breakfast.”
“Of course.” Their gazes caught, and there was that dark emotion in his eyes again. But now she knew it for what it was because an identical feeling filled her. Desire. Tristan wanted her. She could see the struggle in his expression—like he was helpless to resist the pull between them. Like he fought the feeling and failed, as she was doing.
“What is it?” Her voice sounded husky and breathless.
He leaned toward her, and she closed her eyes, waiting for what would come next. Her heartbeat kept up a steady, thumping beat, and she could feel his cool breath and the scent of him, like a fresh mountain rain, covering her. Her skin tingled, her nerves thrumming and muscles tightening in anticipation at the thought of his lips pressed against hers.
He tugged on a strand of her hair. “Zoey.”
His deep voice rumbled near her ear, something about his tone setting her body on edge. Her pulse fluttered and jumped, her muscles tightening, and she opened her eyes to see the heat in his gaze.
“What are you hiding under this?”
What did a person say when they were expecting A and got B? She started to deny she hid anything and then clamped her mouth shut. She must have looked ridiculous because his warm gaze softened, and his eyes peered into hers like he’d found the door to her heart and would pry it open. In that moment, it hit her that she’d fallen into some clever web he’d woven—maybe that he’d been weaving since the moment she’d met him—a web that demanded truth. He was far too smart…too much in control of his emotions, while she was…what was she? Naive, silly, foolish?
She pushed at his chest, making space between them until she could breathe. She couldn’t do this…reveal her secrets…she couldn’t give him what he demanded without putting him in danger. She had been under some hypnotic trance of his making, but now she was painfully aware of what she must do.
“I’m not hiding.” She tried to inject a lighter tone to her voice, but the words came out sounding brittle and useless.
Her denial didn’t seem to make a dent in his composure, and he leaned toward her, as if he could force the truth from her lips. “If you show me now, I promise I’ll never ask again.”
She shook her head, crossing her arms. Deny, deny, deny…it was her only defense. “There’s nothing to reveal. Listen, if you want me to attempt to heal your mom, we must go now.”
He towered over her, his brawny shoulders and the massive amount of energy he projected, dominating the space between them. “I shouldn’t have pressed you. There’s no need to show me if you don’t want to.”
His deep voice soothed frazzled nerves, like a familiar song. She suspected he was deliberate in his efforts to look harmless. He held out his hand, palm up.
Don’t hold his hand.
She’d never had an out-of-body experience, but she could imagine this was what it felt like…like watching someone else, a softer version of Lillian…a Lillian who hadn’t spent two fear-filled years in hiding, wondering if her safety was a figment of her imagination or if it would last a lifetime…a Lillian who understood love was within her grasp and who yearned to reach for it.
This Lillian placed her hand in his, even with the other wiser, smarter Lillian warning her to be cautious. She curled her fingers in Tristan’s warm palm and held on tight, glorying in the familiar tingling as his energy filtered into her body and brushed against her heart.
“I need you.”
She raised her gaze to his, and she couldn’t look away. Maybe he wasn’t as in control as she’d imagined. The desire in his eyes lit up the blue of his irises and set her body on fire.
She blinked and took a step toward him, as if he’d tugged on a string binding them together. He pressed his lips against hers and stole her breath and every rational thought scattered in multiple directions like leaves in a sudden breeze.
His lips were gentle yet firm, and he smelled of the cool mint and leather scent she’d come to associate with him. The stubble on his jaw rubbed against her sensitive skin, and she shivered and pressed herself shamelessly against his hard body.
Tristan didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around her, his broad shoulders holding her tight and deepening the kiss until Lillian forgot everything but the tug of his warm mouth on hers. For a while, they stood like that, tasting each other with their lips and tongues. Then his hands found her breasts, and she couldn’t prevent the small whimper in the back of her throat. Desire shot through her, and she gasped and writhed underneath him.
“Tristan,” she moaned in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. “What are you doing?”
“Getting to know you better.” She sensed the smile in his words.
