“Open your eyes,” Finn commanded.
She shook her head.
“Rose,” he implored.
She opened them as he asked and fell into his soft gray-blue gaze.
Inevitably, he bent his head and tightened his hold on her at the same moment that his lips claimed hers. She breathed in the scent of him, oak mingled with sea air, and was drawn further under his spell.
Finn slanted his mouth, and she tilted her head to the right, allowing the heat of his lips upon hers to seep into her soul. His hand on the small of her back pressed her closer still. With his other hand, he cradled her head in his large palm and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips.
So familiar, this heady sensation as his tongue swirled around hers. Unable to help herself, Rose sucked it deeper into her mouth. He moaned, or she did.
William!
“No,” she managed in a necessarily muffled voice before Finn released her head. Pressing her hands on his chest, Rose shook her head.
“No, no, no,” she said again, and he relaxed his hold on her. “Let me go,” she added, though she made no move to step away.
He held up his hands as he let go of her entirely.
They stayed silent, breathing hard, staring into each other’s eyes.
“I have to go,” she whispered finally. In two steps, she was at the door, ready to flee.
“I’ll see you home.”
“No,” she said, yanking open the door. “If there is someone watching, they may see us together. I’ll be fine.”
Or maybe she would never be fine again. What had she done? And worse, now she couldn’t tell William about Finn at all, not while there was even a hint of danger. She prayed that Claire had indeed held her tongue.
“Rose, I—”
“Goodbye,” she barely uttered the word before she was fleeing down the back stairs and through the kitchen.
A minute later, she was pushing her way through the crowded streets and heading home.
