“I’ve got it from here,” she said, but her voice cracked under the weight of it, too soft and uneven to pass for strength.
His reply came lower, rougher. “I know.”
His fingers tightened.
Just enough to anchor her.
But he didn’t let go.
CHAPTER 39
Dangerous Territory
Where his fingers touched, heat flared—sharp and immediate. It slipped beneath her coat like purposeful fire, a visceral current she couldn’t outrun.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Not from fear. From desire, dark and reckless. The kind that could unravel everything.
Her lips parted in a shaky breath. “We should?—”
The words dissolved as he turned fully and deliberately, pressing her gently but firmly against the door.
His hand at her waist was unwavering, a quiet command cloaked in control. His scent curled around her, warm, dark, and utterly intoxicating.
She hated how much she needed it.
He leaned closer.
The charged air between them crackled. Fierce. Untamed.
“Should what?” His voice dripped with sin, velvet against her skin. “Pretend I can’t feel the way your pulse betrays you?”
She inhaled sharply, chin tilting upward in stubborn defiance. “I’m not?—”
But the hesitation fractured the lie.
His smile was slow, deliberate. Less seduction, more predator scenting blood. His fingers tightened at her hip, testing.
“No? Prove it,” he shot back, but the way his voice hit her when he repeated it, low and dangerous, left her breathless.
“Prove it?” Her voice sharpened, a tremor of defiance in it. “That’s dangerous territory,Blackwell.”
His eyes darkened, intense and unyielding. “I live in dangerous territory.”
He moved even closer, breath ghosting across her skin, cedar and danger tangling in her senses. “And sweetheart? You’re already deep in my woods.”
Her palms landed on his chest, drawn there by instinct. Beneath her touch, his heartbeat was a steady drum—composed, controlled, but loaded with promise.
His hold on her waist cinched, unmistakable now. Not a warning. A claim.
His free hand lifted, fingers grazing her throat with maddening calm, gentle, but laced with power. His thumb traced the pulse racing—precise yet relentless.
“Still not shaking?” he murmured, lips grazing her jaw; each word dark with knowing.
“Shut up,” she said, hands gripping his jacket. She dragged him closer, couldn’t stop herself.
His low laugh vibrated through her, a dark challenge. “Make me.”
