Fin dragged his attention to her face and raised his drink in another toast. “Well, love, here’s to new beginnings, then.”
Their glasses clinked when touched.
“So, what’s your story, Fin? Why do you live in this old tower like a hermit? And why do you wear a robe?” She snickered. “Please don’t tell me you’re a monk.”
“And what if I am?” He pursed his lips and gave her a wolfish grin. “What’s wrong with it?”
Her laughter was light, like the soft coo of doves in the morning. It was delightful, and he wanted more.
“If you’re a monk, then I’m the Pope.”
“Little Princess”—his voice was quiet and low—“you’re certainly no Pope.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe, I’m a dark wizard trying to return to his world, but not before he gets revenge on those who wronged him.”
There’s just one trivial problem—I need the damn ring.
“Oh, good grief.” She rolled her eyes. “I like the monk story better.”
His hand stretched across the table and brushed against her fingers.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she flipped her palm and stroked his skin. The tips were cool against his burning flesh.
His lungs drew in a ragged breath, and he stilled.
Thunder crashed outside and wind lashed against the stones of the old tower, but Fin was focused on one thing: a pink mouth.
Sacha leaned her head to the side, and Fin angled his face as he moved in.
Desire clouded his mind, and he snaked a hand through raven curls. They were still damp, but warm and silky.
Her eyelids lowered. Warm, sweet breath tickled his skin.
When their lips met, a low growl started in his throat.
Her mouth was satin and velvet—a balm to his rough, inner fire. He was a willing prisoner to his senses, and he slid a hand to her jaw and used a thumb to stroke a cheek.
The rain pummeled the windows, and the wind shrieked when it flew through tree branches. Outside a storm raged, and inside he fought his own turmoil in the form of a sassy, enticing enemy.
I shouldn’t be doing this. She’s a means to an end, that’s all.
A small whimper escaped her throat, and she shifted.
Fin tried to pull away, but she placed an arm on either side of his neck and laced the fingers against his nape. Her tongue pushed against him and teased his lips apart.
She was bold, and he liked it.
Forgetting all about what he should or shouldn’t be doing with her, he dipped inside the warm wetness of her mouth.
She tasted like remnants of wine and had a sweetness all her own.
This woman was an intriguing contradiction. Soft on the outside, but a backbone of steel on the inside. Her quiet attitude hid a streak of courage, and her clean façade concealed a little tarnish.
Careful, Fin, remember who she is.
The kiss deepened, and she slid onto his lap and clung to him like he was life itself.
His resolve to remain aloof crumbled, and he wrapped his arms around her waist like a shield. With her soft body in his embrace and her taste on his tongue, she felt safe, like home. He wanted to dash upstairs, throw her on the bed, and seal the deal right there and then.
The test, first, though.
