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“But you also do not fathom how seriously, permanently you could have been hurt.” He dug that in with quiet brutality, watching without a blink as I winced, mentally gored by the tangibility of his pain. “You could have died, Lucina,” he gritted. “Things could have gone very differently this afternoon. Even up on that rise, you were not safe. A few more inches of rain, and that river might have swept you away too—and I would not have been there for you. Nobody would have been. And then—”
Abruptly, he released me. Shoved up then completely off the bed. Spun away like a man possessed, hands knotting at his sides. “Dammit.”
For a long moment, I was motionless. Just lay there, pushed up on my elbows, chest heaving, weathering the force of his fury on the air—a little stunned by it.
Maybe a little more than a little.
Sheez.
Was this the reason why he was still taut as a grenade with half the pin out?
Because of…me?
He had to knock that shit off. Right now.
“Shiraz.” I rose too. “Hey. That didn’t happen, did it?” I stepped around so we faced each other once more. “Look. I’m right here, and everything’s f—”
I gulped as soon as he looked up again. Damn. Blue Fire wasn’t just the name of my favorite cocktail at the Santa Monica pier dive bar anymore. The blaze in his eyes…
“Everything is not fine, Lucina.”
As my hands lifted to my hips, my brows jumped for my hairline. “Why?” I fired. “Because you say so, lord and master?”
Just as rapidly, his demeanor changed again. Drastically. Seriously, I almost wondered who’d punched the special effects button on his side of the room—the button marked Boost the intense-and-interested stare.
And the newly braced stance.
And the quietly commanding mouth lift. Just at the corners. Just enough to make me think of the thoughts behind the move…
Shit. Did he practice that? It was too damned unnerving to just be natural…
“Hmm. That has a nice ring to it.”
On the other hand, rehearsed or not, I’d take it—with a side of that new, silky dessert thing in his voice too. Cream and butter and even whipped chocolate had nothing on that tone. It slid over my whole body, warm and smooth and invasive, making me think of dessert kind of things…like licking. And sucking. And savoring…
I gave my head a fast shake. No. I was still irked with him for the caveman melodrama, for which he wasn’t getting off the hook that damn easily.
I screwed my hands tighter on my hips. “Everything’s not fine why?”
The blue fire ceded to the Bowie knife gray again. He dipped his head in, just enough to lend menace to his look, before he stated, “Because I am concerned about what will happen if you do it again.”
Double-take. Could I be blamed? “Do it…again?” I reined in a full giggle by biting my lip. “You mean break out of a storm shelter to help a friend find her six-year-old siblings? Because unless you have another medicane waiting on the horizon, mister, I think we’re squared up.”
I had another small laugh teed up, ready to finish in style, but he snuck a finger beneath my chin, yanking it up. Worse, he shifted even closer, filling my gaze with nothing but him, as he responded.
“I mean what will happen if you defy my wishes again.”
“Defy your—” I ran the risk of seeming a stuttering idiot, but at the risk of redundancy, blame me, anyone? I banked on the sentiment to carry me through the next open-jawed moment, and the next.
Even as he leveled me with his next shocker.
By angling his hand up, then sliding his thumb into my mouth.
Holy.
Shit.
Right in, scraping the pad over my bottom teeth, before pressing his flesh on the flat of my tongue.
