She wanted his mouth on hers.
She wanted the breathless rush she felt only with him.
Her body had already made the choice.
So she would do the only thing she could. Trust him.
She gathered the wool blanket around her shoulders and lifted her gaze to the heavens. The world was quiet, the night a vast inky ocean. It was a sight she’d admired countless times. To her, nothing was more beautiful than the sky above Shadowmere.
“You waited.” His voice was a slow stroke down her spine. “I wasn’t certain you would. Though you should have locked the cottage door.”
She glanced over her shoulder to find him filling the threshold. Strong. Masculine. Hers for the night.
No wonder people feared him. The collar of his greatcoat framed the hard angles of his face. The heavy wool exaggerated the breadth of his shoulders, and he seemed so impressively tall in the doorway.
“The adventurer returns,” she said playfully.
But there was nothing playful in the way he looked at her. It was the look of a man with one thing on his mind. Not chocolate. Not stars.
Her pulse stumbled as he closed the gap between them.
His fingers closed lightly around her wrist before she could step away.
Oh, she was in danger. In danger of acting on every wicked thought she’d had since meeting him. In danger of surrendering more than her pride.
“I rode as fast as I could. If it’s too late, we can meet tomorrow.”
The road dust clinging to his greatcoat made him look like he had chased the horizon to reach her door.
“It’s not too late.” She released the edge of her blanket and rubbed a smudge of dirt off his cheek. “Though you shouldn’t have hurried.” The knowledge that he had, warmed her more than the thick wool ever could.
“The devil himself wouldn’t have kept me away.” He drew her hand to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm. “You’re cold.”
The tenderness of the gesture caught her off guard. “I was waiting. I didn’t know when, or if, you’d come.”
“I’ve thought of little else since I left you.”
Heat traced up her arm, curling tight in her chest and belly. She could spend every night like this, his hand wrapped around hers beneath the stars, his voice softened by the dark.
“You’re different tonight,” she said. “You’re only ever this honest when we’re dancing.”
“Perhaps I can hear music.” His thumb grazed her knuckles. “And it’s impossible to deny what exists between us when I’m holding you.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside her.
“Then let’s dance while we study the stars.” She slipped off the blanket and let it fall onto the grass, then slid her arms around his waist. “We can keep each other warm.”
“That’s all the invitation I need.”
His mouth claimed hers before they moved. His fingers threaded into her hair, anchoring her to him. Their bodies aligned without thought, as though the steps had been decided long ago.
The kiss was not gentle.
It was a collision of impatience and longing.
Whatever war he’d been waging with himself was over.
She felt it in the firmness of his mouth, in the way his hand held her steady. There was nothing uncertain in him now. Only a depth of want he no longer tried to disguise.
