And yet, her heart hammered at the thought of banishing Kieran from her life entirely. Surely that meant something.
Where did friendship end and attraction and romantic love begin? Were the two even capable of being separated, in the end?
After all, she considered Simon to be a friend, as well.
The sea frothed on the beach outside the cave, churning in time with her pulse.
Could she remain a coward? Could she continue to run from the unsettled feelings Kieran evoked?
Or could she . . . act? Could she test the budding friendship between herself and Kieran and see if love could blossom there?
As Jamie, she had acted. Sometimes when Kieran described her former life, it felt as if Jamie wereallaction. As if Eilidh had so thoroughly thrown off the strictures of her past, she had devolved into another creature entirely.
But that wild lass still existed, did she not? She was still part of Eilidh.
Perhaps . . .
Perhaps . . . she could try being Jamie in truth.
Perhaps, she could take a taste of the love they supposedly shared.
Her feet moved before she consciously commanded them to.
Kieran watched her approach, eyes hooded, his face reduced to shadows by the sun haloing him.
The way he leaned against the cave wall reduced his height by several inches. Eilidh was short, but she would not have to stretch too far to kiss him.
His expression said that he knew this, that he planned to make his lips as accessible as possible to her.
He shifted, placing both shoulders on the wall, opening his face to the light. His eyes gleamed, a pale reflection of the water and sand beyond.
She stepped between his legs, so close that she saw the hitch in his breathing. The frantic flutter of the pulse beside his Adam’s apple.
He swallowed.
She placed a hand on his chest, as if every part of her wished to confirm how thoroughly she affected him.
It felt vital, somehow, to know that he was as unmoored and out to sea as herself.
His heart pounded under her palm, his breathing shaky.
Her eyes fixed on his mouth.
“Lass . . .” he said.
She shook her head.
“This is just me . . . testing,” she whispered.
“An experiment?”
“Aye,” she nodded.
She closed the remaining inches between them, pressing her body to his. His hands wrapped around her waist, holding her close.
Reaching on her tiptoes, she brushed the barest feather of kisses across his mouth.
Oh.
