Why did she feel… safe with him?
Trembling, she drew back.
He didn’t stop her, his arms falling to his sides.
“I—I don’t know what came over me. I’m not normally a watering pot,” she blurted.
“Without rain, nothing grows.”
The understanding in his warm eyes made her heart thump against her ribs. The sense of familiarity unfurled inside her, awareness blossoming.I know him, and he knows me.
But how was that possible?
“Tell me your name,” she whispered.
He cupped her cheek with his hand, his gloved thumb swiping away a stray tear. “It’s better for you not to know. Just trust that I want what’s best for you. That I’ll be there for you when you need me.”
Mesmerized by the husky intensity of his words, the tenderness of his touch, she said, “How can I trust you if I don’t know who you are?”
“Listen to your instincts. What do they tell you?”
The answer surfaced from some inner abyss. Her hand lifted, closed over his, which was still cradling her cheek. Through their gloves, their heat mingled, her pulse racing at the rightness of it. Before she knew what she was doing, she rose on tiptoe and brushed a kiss against his jaw. She heard his sharp intake of breath; before her heels touched the ground, he had her face framed between his hands, his gaze holding hers intently.
You know this man… trust him.
A breath puffed from her lips. Her eyes closed, her head tipping back.
~~~
This is wrong. Don’t do this.
As he beheld Primrose’s loveliness, her head resting trustingly between his palms, her fresh floral scent filling his nostrils, the words pounded in his skull. They were as futile as a prisoner’s fists against iron bars. His rationality had dissolved the moment she’d kissed him. One innocent, tentative kiss—and desire had roared to life inside him. Desire that was anything but brotherly. Desire that was unexpected, unwanted.
Undeniable.
Her upturned lips trembled, as did her lashes against her cheeks. Her offering was so vulnerable and sweet that he had to partake. Just one taste. One time. He bent his head, touched his mouth to hers—ah,Christ.
Her sweetness hit him like a right hook: his head reeled, thoughts scattered.
Only instinct remained.
His mouth sank into hers, a gentle fusion of honey and heat. A perfect fit. Before long, hehadto delve deeper into the source of pleasure. His tongue slid against the seam of her mouth, and, after a brief hesitation, she yielded.
God, her taste. Fresh. Intoxicating.
Right.
Arousal blasted through him. His tongue foraged inside, and he felt her shivered response all the way in his balls. Angling her head back, he deepened the kiss, savoring her sugar and softness, the essence of who she was. When her tongue brushed shyly against his, a hot drop of pleasure slid down his spine, and he groaned against her lips.
“Rosie, are you in here?”
The distant, feminine voice snapped his head up.Bloody fucking hell.
He let go of Primrose, who stumbled back a step. Her gaze locked with his: he saw shock and innocence in those jade depths, the bright remnants of desire. A stray curl lay against her cheek like an upside-down question mark.
What the hell have you done, you bastard?
“Rosie, I’m coming inright now,” the voice warned.
