He didn’t need any stronger reason to keep his boots planted where they were than the flare of arousal licking through him as he stared at Phaedra.
“I came by because I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Apologize?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I know you think I’m incapable, but when I’m wrong, I do own up for it. What I did last night with you was wrong. I wanted you, Phaedra. Fuck, I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you in that Deadlands forest. But it was wrong to give in to that desire. It was selfish, and I truly am sorry for that.”
She set down the hanger she’d been holding and slowly crossed the room to approach him. “I don’t want an apology. I’m not sorry for last night.”
She stepped closer, until there was barely an arm’s length between them. Her sweet fragrance engulfed him, put his senses into a tailspin. Even out of reach, he could feel the warmth of her skin. He could smell sunshine in her upswept hair.
Another step brought her right in front of him, and it was all he could do not to touch the satin softness of her bared neck where her pulse fluttered. His gums prickled with the stirring of his fangs. He ground his molars together, fighting the temptation to taste that ticking vein, along with all of the other impossible urges he had where she was concerned.
Her pretty mouth curved with a small smile. “Don’t say you’re sorry, Micah. I’ve never felt so alive as I did last night with you.”
He groaned, low in his throat. He had been hoping she’d make this easier on him—tell him she’d made a terrible mistake letting him anywhere near her, scream at him to stay the fuck away from her, or maybe slam the door in his face as soon as she saw him standing there.
He had been prepared for her outrage or contempt. She’d be justified in either one. He’d even been prepared for her tears and recriminations.
But not this.
Steeling himself to her sweetness was more difficult than facing off against an army of enemies. She looked so beautiful as she waited for his reply, so damn vulnerable. She was an ageless, powerful being, yet she stood before him with an uncertainty in her gentle eyes that said he could break her with a careless word.
He blew out a curse, raking his hand over his head. “Being with you was amazing. I’m not going to say it wasn’t. But it shouldn’t have happened. It was on me to keep my distance, and I fucked that up.”
“Micah, that’s not what I wanted—”
“I shouldn’t have let it happen,” he snapped, needing to say the words quickly, before he caved to the urge to draw her into his arms. “I can’t tell you I regret a second of what we did, because I don’t.”
“Then what are you trying to say?”
“Fuck. I don’t know.” His head jammed up with all the things he couldn’t say to her. How extraordinary he thought she was. What a jackass he’d been with her from the start. How sadistic fate must be to throw them together the way they had been, with their lives on two opposite paths—hers, waiting for her back in Rome, and his on a battlefield that was only getting bloodier and deadlier by the hour.
That’s why it could only end now, before he waded any deeper into his caring for her. The best thing that could happen to either one of them now was for Phaedra to be as far away from him as possible.
He gave a harsh shake of his head. “I guess I’m just here to say goodbye.”
She tilted her head, her brow creasing with her frown. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“I’m not leaving. Zael and Brynne just told me a few minutes ago.”
“What do mean you’re not leaving? Why not?”
The confusion drained from her expression as she stared at him, replaced by something else. Something that looked a lot like pain. “I have to stay here. When I shielded everyone in the alley, I also exposed my location to Selene and all the rest of my people. I’ll be a target now, and some might try to use me as a weapon against the Order. Lucan has decided, and Zael agrees, the safest thing for everyone is for me to stay here, under the protection of the Order.”
“Holy shit.”
He gaped at her, alarm spiking through him as he processed what he was hearing. She hadn’t been packing to leave; she had been ordered to stay. Because of him. Phaedra was in danger now because she’d helped him and his friends. That selfless act had put a bullseye on her back. Micah’s blood ran cold at the thought of anyone going after her.
Selene. Her legion of loyal guards. Opus.
The list was too long, and too lethal.
Now he understood Lucan’s summoning him to his study. Micah wouldn’t be surprised if the Order’s shrewd leader didn’t already have some inkling of the attraction boiling out of control between Phaedra and him. Hell, his father probably had some choice words waiting for him too—not only as a parent, but as one of the Order’s top commanders.
“Fuck.” Micah let the curse explode out of him. “I have to go.”
