“They’re connected.” A shiver tremored across her shoulders. “Possibly a couple.”
“I came to the same conclusion.” Murray sat forward, which put his knees practically against his chest from his position on the couch.
“I told you everything I remember.” Silver lined her eyes, and right then, Murray saw through the detachment and the bravery and the slight attempts to keep her distracted. “I thought I was going to die. I thought I’d never get to see you again.”
He was moving before she’d even finished that last sentence, hauling her small frame against him. Right against his chest. Where she belonged. And he stopped caring about whether or not their relationship would survive her leaving him behind to discover the world. Murray curled both arms around her, ignoring the flare of pain in his hands and shoulder. He’d do it all over again. The fire. The explosion. The burns. He’d subject himself to a lifetime of pain for this moment. To be here for her when she needed him the most. “I saw him toss you in that lake, and my heart stopped.”
He couldn’t admit to the fear that still burned under his skin, but he could give her this. “I couldn’t get there soon enough. I was afraid I would be too late, that I wouldn’t be able to find you.”
Aslen tipped her head back, her scalp setting against his sore arm, but he refused to move an inch. Her body heat bled through his shirt, a hint of the soap he’d had Danny bring from her shower—lemon verbena—soaking into him. He never wanted to wash it off, to lose that small piece of her. Her fingers grazed over the couple days of bristle along his jaw, eliciting his ownshiver across his shoulders. “I fought as long as I could. I didn’t want you to blame yourself if something happened to me.”
Whispered words he would never forget. That, even faced with her own death, she’d put him first. Murray didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t understand. How? How could this beautiful, ridiculously intelligent woman care so little about her own life when she’d become the center of his entire universe? “You have very little self-preservation. Always have. But if you ever break your promise to me again, I will void our deal and follow you to the ends of the earth out of spite.”
“Shut up.” She swatted his chest but didn’t make a move to leave his lap. Her laugh cut through the darkness that’d taken up residence since he’d realized she’d been abducted and filled him with a light he’d only ever found in her. No. Maybe for a long time before that.
“I’m not kidding.” Murray tightened his hold around her, as if he could weld her to him. Though she’d probably resent him for that. “You think I’m a pain in the ass now. You haven’t seen how overprotective I can get.”
Her laugh pummeled that dark space in his chest to ashes, removing a weight he hadn’t even realized had been there. When was the last time he’d heard her laugh? Had he ever been the one to give her reason to? Murray didn’t like the answers to either of those questions and would leave them to sit at the back of his mind in the mental box he’d shoved all his feelings for her.
Her smile slipped as she locked her gaze on his. Aslen tightened her fingers at his collar. Not to keep herself on his lap, but to drag him closer. “Kiss me.”
He hadn’t heard her right. “What?”
“Kiss me.” She crushed her mouth to his.
Chapter Nineteen
His mouth closed over hers as though he’d been surviving in a desert with no water, and she’d become his oasis.
Aslen had always imagined what it would be like to kiss her childhood friend, but this…feast. An all-consuming sense of rightness with the only man she’d ever wanted. Her fingers ached from the tight hold she had on his T-shirt, and she forced her hands to release. To press against his chest where she could feel the rapid pace of his pulse. Equally out of control as hers. A heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperatures outside exploded in her low belly and spread outward.
Yes. This. This was all she’d ever wanted, what she’d fantasized about so many times between them. His fingers pressed around her spine as though she was something precious he was afraid of letting slip free.
She’d never allowed herself to touch him like this, to hope, and now that she had it, Aslen never wanted to give it up. Every swipe of his tongue against hers, every hint of mint gum, every pound of her pulse—it all intensified to the point she felt surrounded by him. Protected. Electrical jolts sizzled along her nerve endings that pulsed through every muscle in her body. She’d never had an awareness like this. Of him, of her body. An ache stretched deep in her core, to the point she might explode if he didn’t do something—anything—to relieve the building pressure. But Murray only kept his hands still as he tasted her.
She wanted this. Him. All of him. She’d survived fires and drowning, leaving her raw and a little desperate to feel something more than fear, and he was here in her house. Standing guard against the next threat, touching her, holding her. He always had been, whether she appreciated the effort or not. Always sacrificing himself to protect her, even from himself, she knew, but she didn’t need his protection anymore. And she didn’t need him holding himself back.
Being in his arms, his skin touching hers, she felt like she’d come home for the first time since her parents had died. Was it possible to see stars from a kiss alone? The thin fabric of the scrubs she’d been offered at the hospital failed to suppress the heat coming off his body and soaking into her skin. He was light and strength and her constant shadow in the best way, and Aslen would kill to keep this feeling as long as possible. In his grasp, under his kiss, she felt small and feminine when she’d never really been given the chance as a survivor. A fighter. But he made her feel beautiful. Wanted.
“More.” Spreading her hand over his heart, she reached for the hem of his shirt and moved to drag it up over his head. To have him relieve the ache she’d never be able to ease herself. Him. She needed him. “Please. More.”
Except Murray slammed his hand over hers. “Stop.”
One word. That was all it took to break the spell. Her hand shook as she released her hold. “What?”
She was nothing to all that considerable strength moving her off his lap and onto the couch opposite him.
“We’re not doing this, Aslen.” The muscles along his neck and shoulders strained with some internal battle she couldn’t see. Scrubbing a hand down his face, Murray shoved himself to stand, unable to hide the desire he’d felt for her during the past few minutes. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
No. Her stomach knotted. No. She wanted to keep that feeling, wanted to keep him, but it was all slipping through her fingers. Too fast. She couldn’t stop the burn of tears as he added as much distance between them as her too-small house allowed. Knowing the only reason he didn’t walk right out the front door was because of his promise not to leave her alone tonight. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide my mental state?”
“You’ve been through a lot this week. You don’t know what you want.” Murray wouldn’t look at her, as though just a glimpse might remind him of the line they’d crossed. “You should go to bed. Get some rest. We can come up with a plan to have you back on the investigation after you’ve gotten some sleep and cleared your head.”
It was getting harder to breathe. Harder to think. She swiped her damp palms along the tops of her thighs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted after all these years, and now he was just going to rip it away? No. He’d kissed her back. He’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him. She’d felt it, and damn him for trying to convince her otherwise.
She couldn’t let herself throw up. She had to live through this moment, remind herself of all the times he’d used his power over her, made decisions for her so his rejection didn’t hurt so bad. Whether they’d been in her best interest or not. Coming to Zion was meant to test his feelings for her, and he’d given her his answer then. Why hadn’t she taken it seriously? How could she let herself get this far down the road with blinders? “My head is clear.”
Maybe for the first time in years.
