Page 26 of Daring to Love

I pull back just as she moves to rest her cheek against mine.

“Okay.” She nods and takes a deep breath. “Speak to you soon.”

“Goodnight, Amelie.”

She turns abruptly and almost trips into the gate, stealing a low chuckle from me as she curses low at her clumsiness.

I take a step back, waiting patiently for her to get inside. When she turns in the doorway, she waves at me once.

“I had the best birthday, Finlay. Thank you.”

There she goes again, unmanning me with her sweetness. I don’t know what to say – or to feel – so I don’t answer. Instead, I jerk my chin at her.

“Get inside,” I murmur.

“Goodnight.”

Then she’s gone, leaving me staring at her closed front door, already longing for another sight of her. I want more of her.

I crave more kisses.

I want to hear her low moans in my ears. I want to make her fall to pieces on my mouth...I want to be the man to take her innocence. Already, she’s underneath my skin, fuelling the flames I could’ve sworn I felt in my blood when she kissed me back.

But I know I should leave instead of keep staring after her like a lovestruck fool, making a silent wish that she’ll appear and ask me to come inside.

Fuck, I’ve never been so conflicted before.

I can’t have her. Not yet, and not while I’m writing a story about her.

The damnedest thing is I can’t wait to get to know her.

But as I turn on my heels and walk away, a niggling thought is at the forefront of my mind, and all the while walking home, I can’t get rid of it.

Do I want to get to know her for my own selfish reasons, or is it for the sake of the story?