Page 43 of Rafe’s Future

His gut tightened, his jaw clenching as his hands curled into fists at his sides. Ever observant, Lena didn’t miss the immediate change in his demeanor. She did, however, misinterpret its cause.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized a second time. “I swear, I never meant to put you in that position.” And then, “I understand the toll of taking another’s life. Even in defense of self or others, it . . . well, it sucks. So no, I didn’t plan to put a burden like that on your shoulders. I’d nev—” Her ragged voice broke completely.

“I know,” Rafe rumbled. Deep in his gut, he already knew. “I know you’d never . . .” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Lena. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

“You have every right to be angry.”

“I am angry.” He inched closer. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“Then why?” Her confusion was so easy to see.

Rafe took a small, final step forward. Any closer, the tips of his toes would be touching hers. Adorable little toes painted a shade of pink he found oddly attractive.

“I was right there, and I didn’t think I’d be able to stop him.”

Understanding washed over her beseeching gaze as Lena lifted a hand to his chest. She pressed a palm to the place covering his pounding heart.

“But you did stop him,” she soothed. “I’m alive because of you.”

His breath hitched with a soft brushing of her thumb.

“He could have snapped your neck in a heartbeat.”

“I know.”

“There wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done to save you.”

She leaned in and whispered another soft, “I know.”

Rafe brought a hand to her face, gently cupping her silky-smooth cheek with his palm. “Anything happens to you, I don’t⁠—”

Lena pressed a finger to his lips. “It won’t.” She promised something she couldn’t guarantee. “Not as long as you’re the one watching my back.”

“Lena.” Her name came out as a deep growl, thanks to his barely kept control.

She rose to those cute-as-hell toes. Brought her mouth so close to his, Rafe could’ve sworn he felt their feathered touch.

“Shh,” Lena whispered. “I shouldn’t be talking, remember?”

He remembered. He also remembered she was hurt.

“We shouldn’t⁠—”

“Oh, we should.” Her lips did brush across his just then. “We really . . .” A light kiss. “Really . . .” One more. “Should.”

Rafe had tried. He’d really and truly tried. But a man could only take so much.

He grabbed her hips, pulled her body flush with his, and slammed his mouth to hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hard. Fast. Passionate and full of heat.

Their tongues swirled and danced as they savored that very first taste. She held hints of bourbon and a sweetness that could only belong to Lena. A flavor as intoxicating as the woman herself.

A raspy moan filled the air as her hands dropped down to his waist. Lena began pulling at the hem of his shirt. As with all things in life, she didn’t take anything slow. The confidence he’d witnessed in the field was the same he felt now.

But as she started to remove his shirt, Rafe felt an overwhelming urge to put on the brakes. Not because he didn’t want to be with her. Hell, no. In that moment, there wasn’t anything he wanted more. Except⁠—

A low curse fell from his lips as he forced himself to pull away. “We should stop.”

“That sounds like a perfectly horrible idea.”