That picture had landed somewhere near his ribs and refused to let go.
A muscle jumped in his throat. He swallowed hard. It had been nothing—on the surface. A simple touch. But warmth had transferred to his finger and still it burned.
He shifted in the chair, dragging a hand down his face.
It should not have meant anything. It should not have happened. But it had. And now… now his blood wouldn’t quiet. His thoughts wouldn’t still.
He pushed up from the chair, pacing.
He wanted her.
Not just the curve of her mouth or the scent of her skin or the feel of her fingers. He wanted her. Her voice, her mind, her spirit. The way she’d argued over the smallest things. The way she’d tried to hide her smile when he teased her. The way she just… existed.
He stopped at the edge of the bed, gripping the post as if it might balance him.
It didn’t.
Not where it mattered.
His mind betrayed him, conjuring her again. Not the prim MissMaddie with her vials and her lectures, but the one with firelight in her eyes. The one who leaned in close and smelled like crushed herbs and soft linen. The one who looked as if she didn’t yet know what it was to be kissed but was thinking about it.
Sebastian pressed his palm flat to his chest. His heart was still there, still pounding. That was something, at least.
He dropped onto the mattress, elbows to knees, and pressed his hands to the back of his neck.
What the devil had happened tonight?
She’d crept under his skin, that’s what. Not with intention—he didn’t believe that for a moment—but simply by being.
He wanted to touch her again. Properly. Deliberately.
He imagined it: her breath catching, the slight tremble of her fingers, the softness of her mouth beneath his.
Would she sigh? Would she make a small sound of surprise before melting into him? Or would she press close, greedy and unknowing, and make him forget every bloody rule he was supposed to remember?
He groaned and dropped back onto the bed, one arm flung over his eyes.
It was not proper.
It was not wise.
And yet—
And yet…
And yet.
He would break rules for her. Had already broken a few.
He had not meant to want her. Not like this. Not in ways that kept him awake and aching. Not in ways that filled his nights with heat and his days with distraction.
But tonight had undone him.
Because it hadn’t just been desire. It hadn’t just been hunger.
It had beencomfort. Companionship.
The sense of being seen.
