She slowly climbed the ladder, reaching for that book about Finland. Now she was less than a meter away, the orange blossom scent from her hair hitting me full force. Firelight illuminated the fine hairs at her nape, her soft breathing audible as she stretched on tiptoe.
Every muscle in my body tensed.
Her fingertips had just touched the book spine—
"Ah—!"
The ladder suddenly slipped sideways.
Noelle lost her balance, falling backward as the book tumbled from her grasp, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
I lunged out almost on instinct.
I caught her waist, using my body to break her fall. But my momentum was too strong, combined with her falling weight, and we both crashed heavily onto the carpet.
She groaned, her entire body pressed against mine.
My back ached from the impact, but I didn't care. My arms wrapped tightly around her, like I'd recovered lost treasure.
She was soft and warm all over, carrying that maddening scent.The softness of her chest pressed against me, her waist and curves outlined perfectly in my hands. Her startled breath brushed my neck.
Finally touching her. Like a desert traveler taking his first sip of water.
But it wasn't nearly enough. I wanted more.
"Kholod?" She pushed herself up, eyes wide with shock. "Why are you here?"
"I..."
How to explain? That I'd been hiding in an alcove spying on her for half an hour?
"I was just passing by." I heard myself say stiffly. "Heard the noise and came in."
"Passing by the library?" Her eyes were full of suspicion. "Darya says you only ever work in your study."
Damn Darya.
"People change." I forced authority into my voice.
Noelle clearly didn't believe me, but she didn't press. She tried to get up from on top of me, palms braced against my chest. That insignificant pressure froze my entire body. Her palms were so soft—even through my shirt, I could feel their warmth, setting my chest ablaze.
I wanted to grab that hand. Press it against my chest. Instead, I pulled her back down, pressing her against me again.
"What are you doing?" She tensed.
"Making sure you're not hurt." I tightened my hold.
"I'm fine! Let go—"
"Don't move. Let me check."
I flipped us over, pinning her beneath me, cupping her face in my hands.
Her cheeks were flushed from the fall, eyes misty with unshed tears, lips slightly parted like a silent invitation. Just like that night in the garage—trembling, crying, finally surrendering beneath me.
My desire was already iron-hard. And I intended to follow it.
"Don't move. I need to make sure you're not hurt."
