“I don’t care for their Assam,” Rowan says, his voice tight, telling me our close proximity is affecting him, too.
I shouldn’t take advantage of his distraction. A nice pixie wouldn’t…
Tentatively, I graze my fingers over his forearm, fascinated by the way his muscles tense under my touch.
“Yes, that would be fine,” he tells the caller, his tone now clipped and rushed.
Encouraged, my fingers stray across his shoulders, down the light patch of hair on his chest, and over his toned abdomen.
Trying to focus on his conversation even though his attention is on me and my featherlight touch, he murmurs a distracted response into the phone.
Done exploring, I press my palms to his warm shoulders and kiss his neck, enjoying distracting him.
“I’m afraid something has just come up,” he tells the caller abruptly, placing his hand on the small of my back to hold me in place. “Can I call you back?”
I smile against his skin, victorious.
As soon as he ends the call, he tosses his phone onto a shelf, firmly presses his hands to the sides of my waist, and hoists me up. Surprised, I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist and loop my arms over his shoulders, laughing with delight.
“Shhh,” he warns. “Nadine will hear us.”
“Like she won’t suspect what we’re doing when I don’t return.”
“We’re having a tea meeting.” He kisses my lips, then the underside of my jaw. He trails down my neck, his mouth hot and soft. “A very important tea meeting.”
“I like tea meetings.” I gasp when he flicks his tongue over my skin. “Almost as much as I like you shirtless.”
“Kit,” he groans when my sparkles flare. “We shouldn’t do this.”
But does he set me down? No. Do we continue doing this thing he’s decided we’re not supposed to do? Absolutely.
He claims my lips, kissing me in that all-consuming way of his, and carries me to the wall. Pressing my back firmly against it, using it to prop me up, he frees one hand and threads his fingers into my hair, setting me ablaze.
Thoughts flee from my head, leaving nothing but Rowan. His five o’clock shadow scratches my chin, my cheeks. He deepens the kiss, coaxing my lips open, gently demanding. Every bone in my body turns to jelly. The bondsings.
“You’re going to flood the entire tea shop with your summer magic,” he warns, softening the kiss but lingering.
I slide my hand over his back, enjoying the expanse of warm, bare skin. “I’m too happy to contain it.”
He breaks the kiss, smiling like he can’t believe we’re doing this in the middle of the day while the shop is open, and then drops his forehead into the crook of my neck. “I’m terrible at keeping my hands off you.”
I comb my fingers into his chocolaty hair, enjoying the feel of the soft, short strands. “Don’t feel too bad. Pretty sure I started it.”
“Pretty sure?” He chuckles. “You absolutely started it.”
He turns his head, kissing the side of my neck, the gesture sweetly affectionate, and then he sighs. I unlock my legs, sensing the delightful interlude is over.
Rowan lowers me to the ground and presses one last kiss to my lips. “It’s almost six. We should get down there so we can close the shop.”
“I suppose.”
But he doesn’t move, and the expression on his face becomes thoughtful—remorseful even.
Nudging him with a smile, I say, “You’re thinking awfully hard about something.”
He slowly exhales a measured breath. “I feel guilty. I keep succumbing to the pull of the bond—and I’m frustrated I’m not strong enough to fight its pull. Worse, I don’twantto fight it.”
“I haven’t helped any,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry.”
