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My hands searched his face while my lips searched his mouth. I remembered the kiss we’d shared on Tramore before his capture, when he’d known who I was and still wanted me. I’d wanted him then, but I craved him even more now. And it seemed he felt the same, though I couldn’t say why when I hadn’t done anything to make myself worthy of this.
The sound of rain filled my ears, growing louder as it danced upon the rooftop over our heads. I felt momentarily safe among the falling water and in Graham’s arms, his mouth focused entirely on me. True, anyone who stumbled upon us would have a heart attack, but it felt far too right to be dangerous.
He finally pulled away. “Back in the carriage, you wanted to know why I left Tramore. I didn’t tell you the whole truth. It wasn’t only for Lachlan, or Cait, or my mother.”
“So, you don’t always tell me the whole truth either?” I asked with a smirk.
He smiled. “You and I aren’t so different.”
I looked up at him, hopeful.
“I left Tramore almost immediately after you were arrested. I had to know you were okay.”
“I kinda, medium thought—hoped—wished that might’ve maybe been the case,” I blurted out, unable to keep myself composed.
Graham laughed, pushing his wet hair out his face. “That mess of a sentence could get you arrested.”
“You’re criticizing my grammar at a time like this?”
Graham laughed. “It’s the only thing I can criticize about that mouth of yours.”
“This mouth?” I leaned in and kissed him, my head dizzy the moment I tasted him.
“Yes.” He gently bit my lip as he pulled away. “That mouth.”
“Come downstairs,” I begged, my words quieter than the rain.
Graham tilted his head back, eyeing me fervently. “I left my carriage waiting, and it’s almost curfew.
“Pssh. If you stay, you won’t have to worry about curfew.”
“True. I’ll have something much worse—your father.”
“He’ll never know.” I put my lips on Graham’s again, savoring every last sensation.
He pulled away. “It’s not just that. As much as I want you, I haven’t forgiven you.”
“I can live with that,” I said. We had no future together, so what was the point of forgiveness anyway?
“I can’t,” said Graham.
I stepped back, swallowing. I was dying to tell him I wasn’t the one who’d killed Pearce, and that Cael had tried to strangle me, but I had to keep his alliance with Cael secure. And anyway, there were far more reasons he hadn’t forgiven me. It would take way past curfew to name them all.
“I know we’ll never be together,” I said, stating a truth I’d thought a thousand times but never told him. “But would it be so awful to spend a night together?”
“It wouldn’t be awful at all,” he said, closing his eyes with a sigh, “but I can’t afford to become any more besotted with you. You have already obliterated my self-control.”
I laughed. “I don’t know if that’s sweet or insulting.”
His hands cupped my face, and his head tilted in a question. “What’s this on your neck?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, playing dumb.
He leaned over and picked up the lantern. “Your throat is bruised. How did this happen?”
“It’s probably from you,” I teased, lying through my teeth.
“It can’t be!” He looked closer and put up his hand to my neck, placing it softly over the place Cael had choked me. “No, I’m quite sure it’s from a hand.”
