“Then I’ll have to try harder. But I’m doing this for you, so you can be happy.”
“And if I see other men?” I say, looking up at him.
“That would be terrible.”
“Terrible how?”
“Well, you know. Young men, in their prime. Dying so early.” His tone is light, but his eyes blaze.
“You’re jealous.”
“Yep.”
“And possessive.”
“Only an idiot wouldn’t be possessive of the only woman he wants.”
Well, there it is.“The only one, huh? You sure about that?”
“Very.”
I sit up. “Then show me.”
He takes a sip of the dry Riesling he’s poured for me, then gently but firmly takes my hair in his hand, the other arm going around me, and claims my mouth. His tongue glides over my lips, then slips inside. There’s an aroma of the wine I’ve been enjoying so much, but it’s the taste of him that’s making my heart pound.
I miss him—the heat, the need, the sheer honesty of his reaction. He shocked me before with the raw, uncivilized plundering of my body. But right now, he’s kissing me like a man granted a sip of cool water after a long travel in the desert.
Pleasure spreads, then coils around me. I wrap around him, lost in the kiss. My fingers dig into the soft silk of his hair, drawing him close.
He pulls back. Our rough breaths mingle. I blink up at him, the flush in his cheeks, the undisguised desire lurking in his gold-green gaze.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, licking my lips.
He looks at me like he’s pained, but doesn’t close the distance between our mouths. “I love you.”
I blink. “What?”
“I love you,” he says again. “Do you believe me?”
A knot forms in my throat. Every cell in my body chills, then overheats. I don’t…can’tmake sense of this sudden declaration. I’m not ready… I didn’t think…
How can he loveme?
“Do you want to take me back?” he asks.
I can’t speak.
A sad, dry smile twists his lips. “This is why.” He dips his head until his forehead touches mine. “I have to stop because you don’t believe I love you.”
“It never mattered before,” I rasp.
“Because I was too slow to realize I was in love with you.”
“But…I don’t have anything to give you.” My words come out in a thin, lost cry.
“I don’t want something you have. I wantyou.”
“What happens if I never believe you love me?” I whisper. Even now this feels like a dream.
