"Tora. . ." His voice was rough. Almost pained.
"Yes?"
"You are ruining me, Tora. I've looked at this city too many times. Planned wars over it. Killed for it. And right now, I can't see a single building because you're standing in front of me."
My cheeks heated.
"This gown." His thumbs stroked across my knuckles, and his grip on me tightened like he was afraid I might disappear. "You. Standing in my war room dressed like fire. Walking through my city to reach me."
He pulled me closer. "I missed you. . .it was only an hour, and I missed you like it was a year."
I damn near swooned. "I missed you too."
His forehead touched mine.
We stood there for a moment, breathing each other in.
Then his hand slid to the back of my neck, and he tilted my face up.
The kiss was different this time.
Not the claiming fire from my office doorway.
This was slower.
Erotic.
His mouth moved against mine with lust, memorizing the shape of me and imprinting desire into my skin.
And that's when his scent hit me.
Smoked sandalwood and candied ginger. It flooded my senses—rising off his muscular body, drifting from the open collar of his shirt, and wrapping around me the way his arms hadn't yet.
Fiery and warm, but sweet.
Wood left to smolder.
Sugar just starting to burn.
Fuck.
I inhaled against his mouth.
Drew him deeper.
Let that irresistible scent curl into my lungs and settle behind my ribs.
He tasted the way he smelled—dark, sweet, and dangerously warm. His tongue found mine, unhurried, and my hands fisted the satin lapels of his jacket because my knees were doing something unreliable.
When he pulled back, his breath was uneven. His thumb traced the hinge of my jaw. "Do you know how many seconds are in an hour, Tora?"
I shook my head. My lips were still tingling.
"Three thousand, six hundred." His voice was low and rough at the edges. "I felt every one, waiting for you. Imagining how sexy you would be when you walked to me."
“And did I disappoint?”
“Fuck no. I almost tore off that gown.”
