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‘And you got it?’
She nodded. ‘Eventually, yes.’
‘I’m glad.’
Are you?
She exhaled in relief when the question didn’t slip free.
‘You look sceptical,’ he observed, right on cue. ‘You doubt my sentiment?’
‘We’re both attempting to navigate this new normal, Z-Zeph. If I seem...surprised about things, that’s the reason why. We don’t need to dissect everything—’
Despite his relaxed stance, she could feel the rumbles of his aura, the sheer magnetism she suspected would overwhelm even when he slept. ‘Say that again,’ he invited thickly, his gaze raking her face.
‘What?’
‘My name.’
She slicked her tongue over her dry lips. ‘Why?’
Those midnight-blue eyes were almost black now, his gaze shamelessly fixed on her mouth. ‘Because I find that I like hearing you say it.’
She shook her head to deny that and to dispel the foolish sorcery he evoked with each word. ‘There’s nothing special in the way I say it.’
‘I beg to differ,’ he drawled, a thickness in his tone that escalated that spark into flames. Flames that shamelessly flared all over her body igniting illicit lust in their wake. ‘Say it, Imogen,’ he commanded, his tone low, deep and utterly mesmerising.
‘Zeph,’ she whispered.
He surged forward, his movements almost involuntary as he ran his thumb over her lower lip. Calluses, probably from the taxing job of hauling nets from the ocean, grazed over her lips, sending further sparks through her. Lean cheeks shadowed by sculpted cheekbones made him stunningly handsome. But it was the air of confidence that clung to him that drew her. And she suspected most women to their doom.
‘If your husband were to kiss you again, would you run away in terror the way you did last time?’
‘I—I didn’t run away.’
‘Perhaps not physically. But I felt the distance. I want that distance gone, Imogen.’ The growled determination behind that statement sent another wave of heat through her.
Oh, dear God...
She struggled to breathe as he continued to caress her lips, slowly, back and forth, his eyes following his movement with rabid focus. ‘We shouldn’t... You’re not in a—’
‘Cite my memory loss one more time and I’ll shut you up with my tongue.’
Sparks that probably shouldn’t have felt so damn thrilling lit her insides. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘Oh, no,matia mou. It’s a very vigorous promise. One I can guarantee you will enjoy.’
For a blind moment, Immie felt searing jealousy.
For all the women he’d displayed such single-minded craving for in the hazy past. Perhaps even for the future lovers who would get to enjoy this rabid carnal attention from the most compelling man she’d ever encountered.
Then she was dragged back to the present by his insistent thumb, seeking entry between her lips. Lips that were parting almost of their own accord. Because the sorcery he was enacting was too hypnotic to resist.
But she had to.
She needed to remind herself that this wasn’t the true Zephyr Diamandis. This was the imposter wearing his skin until his true self emerged once more. And as much as the sensation zipping through her bloodstream was seducing her to succumb to this...moment of sweet madness...she couldn’t.
Because to do so would be to risk the very freedom that had fuelled her determination to find her lost husband. Freedom she could now pursue.
