He looked down into dazed, ink-blue eyes and realised he’d closed the space between them with one stride. He swallowed, the movement painful as if gravel lined his throat. He was so close he drew the scent of her into starved lungs. ‘And if I said our work situation has no bearing on this? I won’t let that matter, no matter what happens between us.’
‘Then I’d be…tempted.’
Conall couldn’t hold back any longer. The need to touch was too strong. He set his hands on her elbows, skimming up her arms, not slowing until he reached the soft skin of her neck, the underside of her jaw where her pulse throbbed as fast as his own. Her skin was like silk and his hands lingered then slid up to cup her cheeks.
His voice dropped to a bass note that scraped up from his belly. ‘Would you like me to tempt you a little more?’
Say yes.
The thought of dropping his hands was unbearable.
Warm fingers covered his and an electric shock jolted him.
Holding his gaze, she pulled one of his hands away and pressed her lips to his palm. A sigh shuddered out of him as the blood left his head and raced south.
‘Greer.’ The single syllable revealed all his yearning and he didn’t care. Nothing mattered beyond the fact she wasn’t pulling away. His pulse roared in exultation.
She lifted his other hand and nuzzled the centre of his palm as if drawing in his essence. Fire seared his veins. Her lips moved against his palm, and it was exquisite pleasure and torture combined.
‘No need to tempt me, Conall. I want you too.’ Her eyes locked on his and his flesh grew tight. ‘I think I…need you.’
He wrapped his arms around her, her words shifting the unbearable weight he’d carried so long. Joy burst free as she moved into his tightening embrace with an easy familiarity that hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.
How he’d held back from her all this time he didn’t know.
But then her brow creased. ‘Have we done this before? It feels like it.’
‘You were in my arms last weekend, remember? I held you and we kissed.’
Slowly she shook her head, hands flattening on his collarbone. ‘I don’t mean that. Before, were we lovers?’
Her words shook him to the core. All this time, could she have been as tortured as he?
Conall had been leaning forward to kiss her but his head reared back, his heart pounding. What could he say? He’d been told not to force her memories or try to lead her towards them, but to let her recover the memories naturally.
Unless, of course, she never did.
Pain slashed his midsection, lacerating and twisting.
‘If you’re telling yourself you want me, just because you think we had a relationship in the past, you’re doing us both a disservice.’ Reluctantly he dropped his hands. ‘This shouldn’t be about what you think happened before but what you feel now.’
He deserved a bloody medal. Pulling back from her went against every instinct.
‘But if you tell me we were lovers…’
‘Should that make a difference? The point is what you feelnow. I want you in my bed but you have to be sure what you feel.’
For him it wasn’twant, it was bone-hollowing need.
He moved again so they were no longer touching.
For an aching, soul-destroying moment he was alone.
Then she muttered, ‘Damn you and your conscience, Conall Abercrombie,’ and followed him, wrapping her arms tight around his back and pressing in close.
He considered telling her it wasn’t solely his conscience motivating him. Self-interest played a huge part. When she knew the whole truth, things would change irrevocably.
But then she stretched up and put her mouth on his.
