It doesn’t work.
Her nose brushes my neck and she takes a deep breath. Is she feeling the same unexpected pull I am?
“Are you okay?” she asks, pulling away too soon. I touch her cheek, letting my thumb slide over her skin.
“I am. The fire was literally put out.”
“I’m glad,” she says—still keeping a much greater distance than I’d like. And not just physically.
I push myself off the car and step closer until our bodies are as near as propriety—and the fact that we’re in the middle of the street—allow. She doesn’t retreat, and I count that as a win.
“I have a plan to make you forgive me. You know that?”
“Do you?”
“I do. It involves you and me alone for the entire weekend, sailing around the island.”
“That’s a good plan,” she considers. “There’s just one flaw in it.”
“What’s that?”
“What if I’m not willing to forgive you?”
“Then I’ll need to convince you.”
“And may I ask how you intend to do that?”
“Oh,Little Fae. I can be very persuasive.”
The words barely leave my mouth before I crash my lips down on Nina’s with the hunger that’s been consuming me for days.
God, how badly I wanted to kiss her.
She lets out a soft moan as my tongue tangles with hers, stroking and teasing—exactly the way I’ve learned she loves over the days we spent together. Her body presses into mine.
“Thatisvery persuasive,” she murmurs without breaking the kiss, and I laugh softly, caressing her face and breathing in long draughts of her sweet, addictive scent.
“Will you let me make it up to you?” I ask. “Spoil you for the entire weekend?” I open my eyes to find her gaze fixed on mine.
She pulls her head back, separating us and tearing her mouth from mine.
“That’s not necessary, Nero. Truly. I won’t say it was nice waiting around the last few nights, but you really don’t need—”
“I do,” I interrupt. “And I want to.”
I step closer, unable to deal with the short distance she put between us after reminding me how good it feels to have my body pressed to hers.
“You just need to let me.”
Nina sighs, thoughtful.
“I promise to behave like a gentleman,” I murmur in her ear. When I lift my eyes back to her face, the red there has deepened a few shades.
“Maybe I don’t want you to behave like one,” she says—giving me, for the first time this morning, a glimpse of the boldness I adore so much.
I grin.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
