This couldn't continue. The tension between us was becoming a distraction neither of us could afford with Beatrice still out there. Something had to give.
I made my decision.
Outside Alexander's door, I hesitated only briefly before knocking.
No response.
I tried the handle—unlocked. Alexander stood by the window, moonlight carving shadows across his face.
"I told you to get some rest," he said without turning.
"I've never been good at following orders." I closed the door. "Something my father always complained about."
He turned, his eyes finding mine in the dim light. "What are you doing, Aoife?"
"Finishing what we started." I moved toward him. "I'm tired of dancing around this."
"There is nothis," he insisted, though he made no move to stop my approach. "There's just temporary alignment of interests."
"Liar." I stopped before him, close enough to feel his heat. "We both know it's more than that. It has been since that night two years ago."
His jaw tightened, muscles tensing visibly. "This is a mistake."
"Probably," I agreed, reaching up to trace his jaw. "But it's one I'm making with my eyes open." One I hoped wouldn’t come back to haunt me…
His hand caught my wrist, thumb pressing against my pulse. "Do you have any idea what you're asking for?"
"Yes." I met his gaze steadily. "I want the man who looked at me and desired me. The one who didn't hold back or hide behind excuses. The one who saw exactly what I am and wanted me anyway." I swallowed. “The fearless one who brazenly took me on my turf, with all the families present, including mine, and didn’t give a damn about it!”
His face softened a bit and I could see him struggle with himself. "If we do this, there's no going back. No pretending it didn't happen when the sun comes up."
"I don't want to go back," I whispered, pressing closer. "I want to go forward. Whatever that means."
For a heartbeat, he remained perfectly still, tension vibrating between us. Then, with a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh, he closed the distance.
His lips crashed against mine with bruising force, all the pent-up desire of the past days—past years—finally unleashed. I responded instantly, arms winding around his neck, body arching as his hands dropped to my hips, pulling me flush against him.
This was raw, primal, a true claiming. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting of whiskey and something uniquely him. I moaned, the sound swallowed by his hungry mouth as his hands slid lower, lifting me effortlessly.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his hardness pressing against my core.
"Last chance to back out," he murmured against my lips as he leaned me against the wall, his weight deliciously heavy against me.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. "Not a chance in hell, Alexander Moore."
His smile—sharp and dangerous and full of promise—was the last thing I saw before he claimed my mouth again, hands already working at the buttons of my shirt as the last barriers between enemy and lover shattered completely.
Fifteen
ALEXANDER MOORE
Her lips tastedlike fiery memories.
I'd spent days, years, fighting this attraction—this inevitable collision between duty and desire. Now, with Aoife's body pressed against mine, her fingers tangled in my hair, I could no longer remember why I'd resisted.
"This is a fucking mistake," I growled against her mouth, even as my hands moved possessively down her sides, memorizing every curve. She clung to me, no doubt feeling my hardness, then slid her legs back down on the floor, her mouth never leaving mine.
She bit my lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. "Then make it a good one."
