“I could. The world has many of them. In India, there is a sense that our ancestors are always with us. That people we love or respect and admire never die but live within us. I can see you don’t quite believe me, so think of it this way—if you were your mother and you knew the full truth of what had happened to your daughter, would you blame your child?”
His reasoning astonished her even as the sense of his words settled inside her. He was right.
He was right.
Over a decade of recrimination and regret, of holding herself to a standard she believed she had failed, evaporated.
“She wouldn’t have blamed me. My sister Alice knows the story and doesn’t hold it against me. I’ve not heard a word from my other siblings. And if I did, well, we have all learned such hard lessons in life that I don’t believe they would accuse me of being wanton. They haven’t.”
“Says the woman who is naked in my bed,” Brandon answered, and Kate laughed at his parroting her words back to her.
“Iamnaked in your bed,” she answered, pointedly. She moved toward him. “I am naked, and it has been a long time, Brandon.”
“Too long,” he answered and started to bring his lips down on hers in a kiss—however, before he could, she stopped him.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed someone to help me understand. I—”
He cut her off. “No more recriminations, Kate. Never apologize for surviving. Or wanting to live life to its fullest.”
His lips found hers.
Chapter Thirteen
To all the world they were both strong souls—a grand lie, Bran realized.
He was as guilty as Kate of protecting his heart by not letting anyone close. Suddenly, he was tired of the pretense.
He had Kate in his bed. It was all he’d ever wanted.
Bran leaned her back onto the mattress, his lips finding hers. Her arms wrapped around him. Her legs opened, welcoming him.
He slid his arm beneath her, lifting her hips. He kissed her ear, her cheek, her neck. Her skin was velvet soft and tasted of rose petals and promise. He settled against her core, gently nudging to let her know he was there. Her hand smoothed over his buttocks, pressing him to her.
Their kiss became hungry and demanding.
Years ago, he’d not been an experienced lover. He’d been clumsy at best and overwhelmed by his own pleasure. It was a miracle that Kate remembered their time together with any fondness at all.
Now, he was going to make up for it. He slid into her. She was tight. Those muscles threatened to unman him. He caught his breath, holding himself as he felt her ease around him. She rocked her hips up, letting him sink deeper. Her quiet shudder of pleasure let him know he was exactly where she wanted him.
He began moving, and he was surprised to realize that his memory had not been wrong. There was something special about Kate. She was like no other.
She matched his rhythm. She was no practiced courtesan. Her movements were instinctive and yet, they drove him harder than he could drive himself.
Conscious thought left him. Primal need focused on the beautiful woman he held in his arms.
This was Kate.HisKate.
She had one arm around his shoulders. The fingers of her other hand curled in his hair as if she’d not let him escape.
He tried to hold back. He wanted this to be about Kate, and it was damned hard to keep his need at bay—
He felt the quickening in her. She tightened, arched.“Bran.”
Her release was powerful. It radiated through her like ripples of water, carrying him with it. He was lost in the shimmering warmth until his own desire eclipsed it. With a hard thrust, reaching as deep in her as he could, he found his release.
Time halted. The force of life flowed between them.
He had no idea where he ended and she began. They had truly melded into one being. The whole world came down to this woman in his arms, and nothing else mattered. He held her as long as he could before the world intruded once again.
