“Since when do you care?”
A pause. The fountain fills the silence with its gentle trickling.
“Since always.”
I turn to look at him, needing to see his face.
Mistake. Huge mistake. Because he’s close, too close, and the moonlight catches his face, softening all those sharp edges I’ve pretended not to notice these past weeks. The scar through his eyebrow. The strong line of his jaw. The curve of his mouth that I dream about even when I don’t want to.
My pulse quickens. Heat pools low in my stomach, traitorous and familiar.
Stop it. He’s a monster. He kidnapped you. He?—
But the mantra doesn’t work anymore. Not when I can see the hollow of his throat, the dark hair curling at his collar, the way his hands rest on his thighs. Capable hands. Dangerous hands. Hands that washed my hair when I was too weak to do it myself.
Neither of us moves.
The air between us thickens. Charged with something I’m terrified to acknowledge.
I should pull away. Stand up. Go back inside where it’s safe.
Safe.As if anywhere in this place is safe. As if I’m not already drowning.
His eyes drop to my mouth.
Everything stops.
Then he leans in. Slowly. Giving me time to pull away, to say no, to do any of the things a smart person would do when their kidnapper moves to kiss them.
I don’t move.
His mouth brushes mine. Soft. Testing. A question more than a claim.
I freeze. Heart slamming. Mind screamingwhat are you doing? What are you DOING?—
Then my body takes over.
I kiss him back.
My mouth opens under his, and his tongue slides against mine, andoh god, he tastes like wine, andsmoke, and want, and the sharp edge of danger. His hand cups my jaw, tilts my head for deeper access, and I make a sound. Small. Helpless. Wanting.
My fingers find his shirt. Grip the expensive fabric. Pull him closer. For ten seconds, maybe less, maybe an eternity, I’m just a woman kissing a man she wants. Heat everywhere. Want everywhere.
His other hand slides to my waist and pulls me against him, and suddenly I’m straddling his lap, feeling the hard length of him through fabric.
He wants me too.
The kiss deepens. Turns hungry. Desperate.
Then my mind catches up.
What are you doing? He’s your kidnapper. You’re kissing your kidnapper.
I shove him back.
Hard. Hard enough to break the kiss, hard enough that I scramble off his lap and land on the rough stones.
Breathing hard. Lips swollen. Eyes wide.
