Her eyes brightened, went alert. Aware. Then she smiled and caught his hand. “Not going to distract me, Rage. Now, you owe me an answer.”
“I hate when you call me that,” he growled, then surrendered. “I was thinking”—about kissing her …No, that’s not what he’d been thinking … Where did that thought go? He mentally walked himself back up to the deck, standing there, remembered—“that you were right.”
Another slow smile slid across her lips. Like an invitation.
Accepting, he gently brushed her lips with his own. “About the grudge.” A kiss at the corner of her mouth. “About letting go of my anger.” He lingered on her mouth a little longer this time. “About you …”
“Yeah …?” She returned the kiss.
Nuzzled the spot where her jaw met her earlobe. Felt her respond, slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders as he trailed kisses down her neck, burying his face there.
Easy, easy. Slow down.
Inhaling a floral scent that coiled around his brain and made it impossible to think. Taunted him as he walked kisses back up her neck to her earlobe.
But her hauled-in breath and soft moan scrambled that warning. He kissed her again, deepening it. Settling against her sent a jolt of desire through him. Passion roared as her hands slid up his back. She was sliding off his shirt. His hand found the sliver of space between her shirt and pants. Grazed flesh. Chased the shirt up to her—
Stand down!!
Range fought himself to veer off. Finally lifted his mouth from hers, though she pulled him back to her with a whimper.
With a growl, he yanked upward. Rolled to the side and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his head.What the heck are you doing?
“Wh–what is wrong?” Her voice was husky and raw.
Danggit. “Nothing.” Every nerve-ending was on fire. He wanted nothing more than to lie down again. Fall into the vat of passion. “Everything.” On his feet, he stepped forward. “I’ve crossed a lot of lines in the last few years, but that … that’s one I feel is … sacred.”
She was at his side now, bare feet to the deck. “But … we are married.”
He side-eyed her. “Are we? Who says it was legitimate?”
“You said you took me as your wife.”
“I did, but you were held at gunpoint. Any judge would say that was an extenuating circumstance.”
Her brow rippled as confusion, then hurt rolled across her pretty features. “So, even if it is real, you would want out.” She jutted her jaw. “Because I am disgusting to you.”
“No.”
“Do not lie to me.” She pointed toward the berth. “You were ready to make love to me. Then you remembered I was the madam and—”
“No! That’s not it.”
She considered him for a second. “I do not believe you. What else would make you so heatedly passionate one second then cold and gone the next?”
“Me!” he barked. “Me—the pretty girls don’t choose me!” Had he just said that? He scrambled for a better line. “If I justify that I want you with the pretty weak excuse of us being forced into marriage in a ceremony that was not of our choice, then I am no better than my brother or those men at Roud.”
Her face contorted. “Your brother?”
Range sniffed. Couldn’t believe he’d said that either. “Canyon … he slept with Dani on that mission. I never let him live it down.”
“So, again, this is about your grudge with your brother. About you—why did you say the beautiful women don’t choose you? Haven’t I?” She dropped onto the bed, her voice and lip trembling. “Didn’t I?”
Somehow he was on a knee in front of her. “Look. What I am going to say, might hurt, but I want you to listen, hear me. Okay?”
She gave him a wary look … filled with a whole lot of defiance.
“I think … you said because of the passion shared on that bed, that you felt you chose me. Am I getting that right?”
