And brought her to his door.
“It’s real,” he reassured her.
She let out a breath that seemed to take something more than just air out of her. And when she inhaled again, something more than oxygen seemed to fill her.
The gold of her eyes changed, darkening as desire pooled in them.
“Good,” she whispered.
Her voice lapped at him, warmer and more intimate than the inch of water that separated their bodies.
Good.She was right. They were both alive. Tomorrow might bring disaster, but today, they were together.
And there was nobody to fool except themselves.
She pulled him to her, and he let himself be pulled; lips to lips, hands to hands, the excruciating softness of her breasts against his chest. Beneath her mask of sharp edges, she was all luxuriant curves, sleek and dimpled.
Her skin was silk beneath his hands. Her mouth opened under his, her tongue flicking out to taste him.
She was a goddess, and it seemed like sacrilege that she should want to touch him. But she ran her hands over his shoulders and chest with a greediness that left him reeling.
And a confidence that he could not hope to match.
She kissed his face with the same intensity she’d kissed his mouth, pressing her lips against the pulse where his jaw met his neck until he groaned. Her teeth scraped the bristle of a day’s unshaven stubble as her hands slipped down over his ribs, fingers splayed to caress and claim every inch of him.
As if he was something anybody would want to claim.
She paused, and he froze, replaying the last few seconds in his head. Had he pulled away? Tensed? Done anything to show his doubts?
*What’s wrong?*
Her voice was sun and honey, a sweetness he didn’t deserve and didn’t know what to do with.
“What?” She turned her head and let out a rough breath against his shoulder. *What was that?*
Ice trickled down his spine. “A thought I didn’t expect you to hear,” he replied coolly. His voice did not even shake. Was he truly so good at hiding his actual feelings, he could even say this without faltering?
Francine’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He cursed silently. How much of that had she heard?
Her finger traced his cheek. “Enough,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “Is that really how you feel?”
“Is what—”
“You don’t want me to feelsweettowards you.” Her mouth pinched shut. *I talked to you like this because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea if I said it out loud.*
He couldn’t sense any thoughts other than the ones she sent for him to hear. How could she hear his thoughts not meant for her, but her own remained hidden?
How could he lose control like that?
Her eyes narrowed again, and he said quickly, trying not to think that speaking out loud might blot out treacherous thoughts he didn’t want her to hear, “What did you think you would sound like out loud?”
She thought about her answer, her gaze twitching between his eyes. He saw the moment she decided to answer him truthfully. Her nostrils flared, the ghost of her lioness twitching her whiskers.
“I thought I would sound like this.” She raised her head, fixing him with a stare that was almost a sneer. “The same way I always do. Like you could peel each word back and find how much I despise you under it.”
“You don’t despise me.” He was surprised how easily the retort came to his lips. How true he innately knew it was.
“No.” Her lips curled, and she pressed them together. Then her thoughts found his again, sweet and golden. *But I don’t know how to say it out loud and have it sound like the truth. I was so good at being everything I thought Eloise expected me to be.*
