“And what is important?”
“Friends. Pursuing the sport I love. Working with people I admire. Being a part of something bigger than my own ambition. Giving back to my community. Finding happiness outside of climbing.”
Two dark eyebrows rose. “You really don’t know how uncommon your attitude is. Living in Hollywood, working in Beverly Hills, I met so many young women who measured their self-worth in fancy cars, big bank balances, movie roles, and the men they were sleeping with.”
She couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Were you one of those men?”
“I had my share of offers.” He took her empty mug, set it with his on the coffee table, his gaze pinning her to the spot. Then he took her good hand, caressed it with his thumb, making her skin tingle. “But, no, I wasn’t. I wasn’t even tempted. But you, Sasha…”
He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his.
Sasha sucked in a breath, contact making her lips burn, sending delicious shivers down her spine. When he started to pull back, she grabbed the front of his T-shirt with her good hand, and held fast. “Kiss me.”
Darius ignoredthe voice inside his head, warning him not to do this. He’d had just a taste of Sasha, and,damn. She’d felt it, too—the shock, like sparks. He could see it in her eyes and feel it by the way her hand was fisting in his T-shirt.
He leaned forward, brushed his lips over hers again and again, until his blood ran hot and both of them were breathing fast. Then, careful not to hurt her, he cupped her face to hold her steady and claimed her mouth with his.
His brain went blank. There were no objecting voices now, only Sasha and the thrum of his pulse. She whimpered, yielding to him, her lips pliant.
Soft skin. A hint of spearmint. The scents of lavender and vanilla.
He teased her with his tongue, outlining the curve of her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, thrilled by her quick intake of breath. When his mouth closed over hers again, she parted her lips for him, her tongue meeting his.
But it wasn’t enough.
He took the kiss deeper, slid the fingers of his free hand into the silk of her hair, lost in the feel of her. She arched against him—then gasped and jerked back, her hand letting go of his shirt to press against her ribs.
“Sorry.” Her voice was tight. “That was my fault.”
Heart thrumming, Darius saw the pain on her face, regret jagged in his chest. “No,I’msorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“You didn’t hurt me. I did.” Her lips, wet from kissing him, curved in a little smile, some of the heat of their kiss lingering in her eyes. “I wanted to get closer to you.”
Her words took some of the sting out of his anger at himself, because, yeah, he’d felt the same way. “Can I get you anything? Is it time for an oxy?”
She shook her head. “If I take oxy, I’ll just fall asleep, and then you’ll leave.”
Unable to stop himself, he ran a finger down her bruised cheek. “Rest is probably what you need.”
“I’d rather keep kissing.”
Yeah, well, Darius heard that. “Do you have an ice pack around?”
“I havesomany ice packs. I am the queen of ice packs.”
Darius got to his feet, checked her freezer, saw a dozen or so neatly stacked ice packs in different shapes and sizes. “You’re not kidding.”
“They go with the job.”
He grabbed a long rectangular one, found a linen dish towel, and wrapped it around the ice pack. When he returned, he found her, face pale, still holding her side. He sat next to her, held out the wrapped ice pack. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She moved to the recliner and accepted his help getting situated with the ice pack against her side, wincing at the contact.
“I’m getting that oxy.”
This time, she didn’t argue.
He found her prescription, took out a pill, and brought it to her with a glass of water. “I hope this helps.”
