“I hope you don’t mind,” she said when she saw me. “But I’m hungry and I thought I would make dinner.”
“I’ll help,” I offered.
She smiled at me and we worked together to prepare the meal. I didn’t have much in the way of food since I spent most of my time at Savannah’s house, but we made do.
“I don’t think badly of you,” she said suddenly as she stirred the vegetables she was cooking. “About your brother, I mean.”
My hands paused in seasoning the chicken I was planning to grill, but I didn’t speak.
“You’re a very hard man to read emotionally, but I could still sense your guilt and your grief over his death,” she continued, her eyes on the pan in front of her. “I know it wasn’t a decision you wanted to make and you clearly avoided it for as long as possible.”
“Why do you say that?”
Finally, her dark eyes lifted and met mine. “You waited over two thousand years to kill him, Rhys. I think that was ample opportunity for him to change his ways or let you go. The fact that he didn’t do either of those things tells me you had no choice.” Her voice grew softer. “And maybe it’s wrong of me to think this, but if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed you and you wouldn’t be here with me now.”
Neither of us spoke much after that as we finished preparing the meal. I wasn’t sure what to say and Savannah seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. I wanted to give her time to come to terms with whatever preyed on her mind.
After we ate, I insisted on washing the dishes.
“I want to help,” Savannah said.
“Then sit on the counter next to me and drink your wine.”
She sighed but did as I asked, hopping up to sit on the counter a few feet from the sink, a glass of wine in her hand. She didn’t speak for a while as she watched me wash the pans and plates from our dinner.
“You aren’t going to stop speaking to me again, are you?” she asked suddenly, her voice small.
“What do you mean?”
“When we kissed the first time, you stopped speaking to me for weeks. You aren’t going to do that again now, right?”
She sounded so uncertain that I could have whipped myself for doing that to her.
“No, I’m not letting you go unless you ask me to,” I answered, my hands clenched beneath the soapy dishwater. I wanted to grab her and show her exactly how much I wanted her.
“Good,” she whispered.
When all the dishes were washed, I walked Savannah and Satchel back to her house. This time, when she opened the door, I did something I hadn’t before. I walked through her house to check each room and the windows and doors. I wanted to be sure she was safe.
Even after I’d ascertained that her home was secure, I didn’t want to leave. I might be right across the street, but it would take time to reach her if she needed me.
“Thank you,” she said when I returned to the living room where she waited by the front door.
“For what?”
“Making sure that I’m safe.”
I approached her and brushed her cheek with the tips of my fingers. “I will always keep you safe if you want,” I replied.
She smiled. “As a modern, independent woman, I think I’m supposed to tell you thanks but no thanks, but I guess I’m a failure at that. I like that you want to keep me safe.”
“Just because I wish to be the one to ensure your safety doesn’t make you any less capable of doing it yourself. When you care about someone, you want to protect them from harm.”
I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. Each night, it grew more and more difficult to leave after a single kiss, but tonight wasn’t the time to give in to those urges. Savannah needed time to think about everything I said today, whether she realized it or not.
When I lifted my head, she surprised me by reaching up and wrapping one hand around the back of my neck while the other sank into my hair. Then she pulled me back down, her mouth insistent and hungry against my own.
I couldn’t resist the demand she made and opened my lips over hers. Our tongues tangled together and her fingers fisted against my scalp, tugging at my hair.
I crowded her, pushing her back against the front door until our bodies were melded together. Savannah moaned into my mouth, her back arching. Her hands released my neck and hair and moved down my shoulders and chest.
I grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the door next to her head, but never lifted my mouth from hers. She twisted against me, trying to free her hands, but I couldn’t release her. If she touched me again, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking what she offered.
Finally, she relaxed against me and I let go of her wrists in order to lace our fingers together. In slow degrees, the kiss calmed until I felt more in control. This time, when I lifted my mouth from hers, Savannah didn’t struggle. She stared up at me, her dark eyes heavy-lidded and her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing.
“What are you doing to me, Savannah?” I asked her, our faces close.
“I’m trying to make you mine,” she whispered.
“I think it’s too late for that,” I told her. “Because I’m already yours.”
