I suck in a sharp breath, bracing for the moment his gaze drops—but it never does. His eyes stay locked on mine, intense, steady.
My heart thunders against my ribs, heat blooming low in my belly.Gods, why does he have to be like this?
He lets out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh, and then gently—carefully—sets me back on my feet.
“There,” he murmurs, brushing a wet lock of hair from my face. “All good.”
I swallow. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” But his eyes are dark, intense in a way that makes my pulse skip. “I… you’re beautiful, Lithia.”
The simple honesty in his voice steals my breath. No one’sever called me beautiful—not like that, like it’s just a fact he can’t help but state.
“Kier…” I don’t know what I’m going to say, but he’s already let me go and is turning away, giving me privacy I didn’t ask for.
My skin prickles with a thousand confused feelings as I touch the place where his hand held me.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Didn’t mean to make this weird.”
But it is weird. And charged. And absolutely nothing like the practical, survival-focused dynamic we’ve maintained in the cabin.
“You didn’t make anything weird,” I find myself saying. “You made things… interesting.”
He glances back over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Interesting good, or interesting bad?”
“Jury’s still out.”
He laughs, the sound rich and warm in the cool air. “Fair enough.”
We fall into companionable silence—him fishing, me scrubbing days of grime from my skin. But I’m hyperaware of every movement he makes, every flex of muscle as he moves through the water.
And he’s aware of me too. I can feel it in the way the air between us crackles with tension, in the way his breathing has gone just slightly uneven.
This is dangerous territory. I know it, he knows it, but neither of us seems inclined to retreat to safer ground.
When I finally climb out of the water, clean and shivering, he keeps his back turned until I’m dressed.
“Better?” he asks, finally facing me again.
“Much.” And it’s true—I feel renewed. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for the distraction from the mind-numbing boredom of fish stalking.”
We collect his catch, five fish in all, and head back to thecabin together. As we walk, I find myself glancing over at him, letting my eyes linger longer than they should.
Kier is… attractive. More than attractive. The realization hits me like a physical blow—I’m attracted to this man. Not just grateful, not just trauma-bonded, but genuinely, viscerally attracted.
Something tightens low in my belly, heat pooling once more.
I want him.
I nearly stumble.
Well, shit.
Back at the cabin, Kier sets about preparing the fish with practiced efficiency. I watch his hands work, steady, sure, competent, and try to ignore the way my pulse quickens every time he glances my way.
“You’re staring,” he observes without looking up from filleting.
