“I am. I missed you.”
The statement, so direct and honest, flared her nerves alive. Intrigue and want tempted her with a heated hunger, and she fought to keep control. To remain sane and unharmed. She pushed away from the table and grabbed her wineglass to head into the living room. “Thanks for dinner.”
He reached her with a wisp of sound, tugging her down to the sofa. “Stay the night.”
“Probably not a good idea.” She gingerly placed her glass on the coffee table before she doused them both with Cabernet. The man radiated heat in the air-conditioned room, and she had to fight the urge to nuzzle into his side like she would’ve years ago. To feel that sense of belonging and home. “We tried, we failed, it’s over.”
He remained silent and placed his glass next to hers. “Are you sure?”
No. Hell to the nth of no. She’d been apart from him for eight years, and she’d dated several men, even going so far as to move in with one. Yet not once had her heart been broken when the relationship had ended. Was it possible that there was only one match for each person? She was a scientist and believed in soul mates as much as faeries or mermaids. But she couldn’t help but wonder. Were they meant to be? “What are you asking me, Deacan?”
“Just for one night.” He reached for her, so casually, so easily, and settled her on his lap, facing him, her thighs straddling his. “To find out if it was real. Any of it.”
She could’ve fought him and kept her seat. He wouldn’t have forced her onto his lap. Yet she allowed him to move her, to reposition her, to put her where she’d once belonged. Out of curiosity to find out if she’d still fit easily, and out of a bodily craving she couldn’t deny. Yet she kept her voice level. “Are you joking?” The man wanted to get her into bed? She perched very still, trying not to appreciate the rigid muscles of his thighs between hers. In their years apart, he’d filled out, becoming even harder. “That’s the worse come-on I’ve ever heard.”
His upper lip curved. “Baby, if I just wanted ta get laid, I have plenty of options. I want more. A chance to see if what we had was real, or if I’m making up memories.” He brushed her hair back from her shoulder. “Are you seeing anybody?”
“No,” she breathed.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
Her shoulders went back. “None of your business.”
“Oh?” He ran his hands over her arms and around her waist, pulling her along his legs until his erection nearly burned through her jeans. She almost managed to swallow her gasp. His eyes darkened to a color beyond green. “When was the last time you made that sound?”
Eight years ago. “Deacan—”
At his name, something in him snapped. His arm banded tighter around her waist, and his other hand tangled in her hair, gripping her with the promise of power leashed with determination.
The combination rippled through her, and she shuddered.
“Yeah.” He held her in place. “That.”
She tried to breathe, but the desire clawing through her gave no quarter. “You planned this.”
“No. I wished for this.” He met her mouth, enveloping her in desperate heat. No calculation, no seduction—just all male taking her under.
Her eyes closed, and her hands clamped onto his shoulders. For years, she’d felt so cold. Now, finally, here was warmth. She kissed him back, lost in the feeling, drugged by the familiarity.
He stood easily, holding her, continuing to demolish her mouth. The moment stilled, and she didn’t care. When she dug her hands into his hair, he began to move.
She just didn’t want the ecstasy to end.
Somehow he managed to maneuver through the condo, kissing her the entire time. They reached a bed, and he laid her down. He drew off his shirt, revealing rugged muscles adorned with battle scars. “I’ve waited a long time for this. Are you sure?”
She’d known he’d ask. Somehow, deep down, she’d known. Now they both needed to know if their memories were even close to true. “I’m sure,” she whispered. One night wouldn’t hurt her—she’d make sure of it. But she had to know.
His eyes glittered a startling green through the semidarkness. “I’ve missed you, Nora.” Quick movements had his belt wisping through loops.
She shivered at the sound and partially sat up.
“Let me,” he rumbled, reaching for her shirt. “I remember what you like.”
Did he? She held up her arms so he could remove her shirt. “Prove it.”
Chapter Five
The second she acquiesced, something in Deke’s chest unfolded. Something hard and foreign . . . and now gone. He’d missed her. If she’d decided to show up for dinner, he’d known she’d want to explore their past—to see if what they’d had was real. Hell, he’d been counting on it.
