Megan Chance by A Heart Divided

Author:A Heart Divided [Divided, A Heart]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-06-30T22:01:10+00:00

Chapter 15

Sari felt frozen to the chair. Make love to me tonight. She didn't misunderstand him. He wanted comfort and understanding, he wanted the mindlessness that came when they touched. But he didn't want love. He didn't want forever.

After the storm ended, they would go back to the way they had been. She would be distant and controlled, he would be the emotionless Pinkerton agent, here only to do a job. She would try to forget what he'd told her. She could not expect that tonight would change anything between them.

But what if it did? What if she took the risk of loving Conor? How much pain could she go through again if she was wrong?

The answer came quickly: as much as it took. She couldn't deny him, couldn't deny herself. Besides, she told herself, this time she'd be ready for any betrayal. The pain would be less if she was prepared for it. And in the end it didn't matter anyway. When he looked at her that way, she couldn't walk away from him, couldn't say no. She didn't want to say no.

She set aside her cup, uncurled her legs. He was watching her every movement with selfish fascination. "As if he wants to drink your soul." Miriam's words. Or Conor's words? They mixed drunkenly in her mind.

"It feels like I've wanted you forever." The velvet gravel of his voice caressed Sari's nerves. "I've dreamed of you so often. Nothing seems to stop it. Nothing."

She waited on the edge of the chair as he rose. He held out a hand, and she took it, feeling weightless when he pulled her to her feet. His hands rested at her waist, drawing her close. His lips were warm and urgent as he nuzzled the sensitive spot below her ear.

"Tell me, Sari," he whispered. "Tell me why I can't seem to get you out of my blood."

For the same reason I can't get you out of mine. Sari closed her eyes, wishing she could tell him. Wishing that it mattered that she loved him. But the only important thing was the warmth of his breath on her throat, the heady smell of him.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, running her hands over the plane of his back. His flannel shirt was smooth against her skin; she felt the play of his muscles as he shifted into her.

He brushed her lips lightly with his own, and she shuddered at the warm tenderness of the kiss. She arched into him, impatient for more as he flicked the corners of her mouth with his tongue, tracing the outline of her lips, urging her mouth open so that he could explore the sweet taste of her.

She tasted sweet, and her mouth was hot and wet and urgent. Conor wanted more of her, wanted to draw her inside him. He groaned into her mouth and she answered him, twining her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, pressing her breasts into his chest.

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