He bent his head, and his lips brushed against her ear. “What I’m about to tell you has to stay a secret. From Zaira and even from Bellamy.”
Something in his tone halted her tears.
“Promise me.”
She nodded.
His lips moved to the center of her ear, and his soft breath sent tingles over her skin.
Desire rippled through her again. She wanted his kiss, wanted to feel his mouth on her ear and on her lips.
“Torin is alive.” His whisper was so low, she almost wonderedif she imagined it. “He’s injured, but the doctor says he’ll live.”
“What?” She forgot to whisper and pulled back, her pulse jumping erratically.
He immediately tugged her back, his mouth against her ear again. “Shaw can’t know. Everyone has to think Torin’s dead.”
For a moment, the wordshe’ll live raced through her head, and relief so overwhelming filled her that she sagged against Kiernan, clinging to him, tears heating her eyes. Torin was alive, had somehow survived the attack. But how? Where was he? Could she see him?
She pushed back again, lifting her face and trying to study Kiernan. “What happened? How did you—”
He cut her off by dropping his mouth onto hers.
The touch was gentle and filled with warning not to say anything else. But it was also filled with something else ... assurance and compassion and even love?
Whatever the kiss contained, she suddenly needed it more than she needed to breathe. She closed her eyes and pressed back. There was no gentleness in her kiss. It was hard and demanding all at once.
She lifted her arms around his neck, drawing him down, locking him in place, giving him no choice but to kiss her in return. This time not to silence her, but because there was no other place for him to go.
He half lifted her from the ground, as if he needed her even closer, couldn’t get enough of her, wanted all of her. The heat of his mouth melded against hers with a hunger—even desperation—that hadn’t been present for their first kiss.
This man. He didn’t have to command her with words.All he needed to do was kiss her and she was his, all of her heart and soul. She was utterly and completely his. There was nothing she wouldn’t give him.
One of his hands slid up her back to her neck to her hair that had come loose long ago and that she hadn’t bothered to bind, and he dug his fingers into the depths.
The kiss was as intense as he was, and she was dizzy with a tangible current drawing them together, as if they were made for each other and this moment was inevitable.
But it wasn’t inevitable ...?
What was she doing? With all the trouble she’d already brought upon Kiernan, how could she let this exhilarating moment continue?
With fresh resolve, she pushed against his chest. She shoved hard even as she continued to kiss him, loathe to bring the kiss to an end, devouring him with the same extravagant kisses that he was giving her.
Finally, she gave a thrust that separated them, or at least wakened him to her attempts to bring the kiss to an end.
He halted and broke away, his labored breathing bathing her lips as if begging her for more.
She couldn’t. She had to put an end to whatever was happening between them.
She released her hold around his neck and lowered her feet back to the shed floor. Her body felt like it had liquified, and her legs could hardly balance her weight. Her fingers wanted nothing more than to grasp his shirt into a fist and let him be her support.
But if she did so, how would she be able to leave him when the time came?
Drawing in a steadying breath, she took a step backand then two, until she bumped into a crate. Even with the distance, the air between them was filled with energy that threatened to draw them together again.
She closed her eyes briefly, trying to rein in her emotions. “I’m sorry—”
“No apologies this time.” His whisper was gruff, almost angry.
