She froze.
He stood in the parlor looking undone, tie askew, hair mussed by the little tussle, eyes burning with everything he had refused to say for weeks.
“May I?” he asked quietly, gesturing to her door.
She hesitated, her gaze darting from her door to the man standing next to her, before nodding.
They entered, and the moment the door shut behind them, Cassian spoke.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “For everything. For pushing you away. For letting my past dictate what you should feel. For believing I didn’t deserve you, and for acting as though you didn’t deserve better.”
She swallowed. “Cassian.”
“No.” He moved closer. “Let me say it. I thought I was sparing you, I thought distance was protection. But I only hurt you, and when I saw you tonight, trapped with him, when I realized I could have lost you…”
His voice broke. Cassian’s voice actually broke, and Isabella felt her eyes sting.
“I was never afraid of you,” she whispered. “Never. I was afraid you’d get into some kind of trouble, and I was scared of losing you. That night, you left me alone in a way you never had before.”
He shut his eyes. “I know. And I am sorry.”
She inhaled shakily. “Will you believe me now? When I tell you I’m not frightened?”
He nodded, eyes shining. “I will believe anything you say.” A tear fell down her cheek, and Cassian’s thumb caught it, swiping it away.
“Isabella,” he murmured, “if you’ll have me, if you’ll forgive me, I will spend the rest of my life making this right.”
She stared up at him. “Good. Because I intend to make you work for it.”
A hoarse, startled laugh escaped him, and then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, pressing his delicately soft lips on hers.
This kiss was not hard or hesitant but slow, consuming, and reverent.
His hands framed her face, then her waist, pulling her flush against him, pressing his hard body against her while she fought to remain standing. She clutched his coat, fingers curling as if anchoring herself to something she had nearly lost, and the kiss deepened.
Heat surged through them as his mouth slanted over hers, his breath rough, her sigh trembling. Cassian’s hand then slid up her back, the other tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her toward him as though he could not get enough.
“Isabella,” he whispered against her mouth, “I missed you.”
She shivered. “Then kiss me again.”
He pressed her softly against the door, their bodies close, his hands holding her as though she might break or as though he might. Their kiss was all tenderness, all longing, all apology, each breath shared like a vow.
Tonight, there was no anger, no fear. Only the rediscovery of the one thing they thought they had broken, which was each other.
Cassian peeled the silk dress away from Isabella’s front and unhooked her corset. Heat spilled all over her body. The round shapes of her breasts spilled forth, covered only in the crumpled tissue of her chemise, and a deep groan exited his Cassian’s lips like a hungry Highlander.
Blindly, he lifted her up and led her to her bed, where he sat and put her on his lap, then found the nub of her nipple through the fabric and captured it in his mouth.
“Oh, Cassian!” Isabella cried, but he licked it softly and bit it through the linen, then he pulled at the chemise, and she felt the delicate fabric tear beneath his fingers, but he kept pulling at it until both her breasts were naked. Groaning, he buried his mouth in the valley between them and cupped his hands beneath the plump weights. Unbidden sounds escaped her lips.
“Cassian…” She could barely speak through her shallow, unfinished breaths. “Oh, Cassian.”
“You’re so beautiful and so mine,” he growled against her, suddenly raising to his feet and bringing her onto the bed.
“I want to touch you, Cassian,” she whispered, staring up at him as he had begun unfastening his trousers.
He swallowed and neared her, enough for her hands to reach him as she deftly unfastened the rest of his buttons. His erection sprang free as did a breath from his throat.
