“Sweetheart, you may not feel the cold, but I’m fucking freezing. Trust me, nothing worthwhile is going to pop up on a night like this.”
“Really?” I skimmed my gaze downward. “That seems pretty worthwhile to me.”
He grinned. “Trust me, it’s only a halfhearted effort.”
If it was, it had to be pretty damn impressive when he was serious. I stepped closer, pressing myself against the warm, enticing hardness of his entire body. His hands slid around my waist, holding me closer still. It felt good, felt right. And that made the fear swirl again, because I really didn’t want to find someone else for the scientists to threaten and maybe even kill.
And yet the part of me that burned made me say, “Are you sure you want to go inside?”
“Yes,” he said, then lowered his head and kissed me.
Not sweetly, not tenderly, but forcefully, desperately, like a man in the desert who’d been deprived of water for too long. I returned it in kind, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on tight as I tasted and explored and enjoyed. It was a kiss that seemed to go on forever, a kiss that I wanted to go on forever, until a dizziness that I wasn’t sure was due to his closeness or lack of air crept over me. It was only then that he pulled away and stared down at me. I was breathless, burning—and not just from the force of our kiss, but also the intentness of his gaze, from the resolve and determination so evident in the rich depths.
Whatever it was I was feeling, he was feeling it, too. And that made me even more frightened.
There was too much at
stake already. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—put someone else in danger. Especially someone who might just be important to my future.
If I had a future.
I forced myself to step back, away from his warm body and marvelous kisses. “Maybe we’d better get inside.”
He ran one hand down my arm and clasped his fingers around mine. “Let’s go.”
I resisted the urge to wrap my fingers tightly around his, and just let my grip remain loose. “Don’t forget my T-shirt.”
He leaned down and scooped it up, then tugged me lightly toward the cliff and the old, worn steps.
The wind was stronger on the top of the cliff, tugging at my hair and freezing my exposed butt and nether regions. Which only served as a pointed reminder that next time I went for a night swim, I’d damn well better make sure to bring some decent clothes to wear afterward.
I huddled a little closer to Trae, and his scent spun around me, warming me almost as much as the heat emanating from his body. He released my hand, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer still.
“The fish is suddenly feeling the cold, huh?” Amusement ran through the huskiness of his voice.
“It’s the wind.” I crossed my arms against a shiver. “There’s a storm blowing in, I think.”
He glanced upward. “Not a cloud in the sky.”
“Not yet. It’ll be here by mid-morning, though.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I can taste it in the air.”
“Of course you can.”
I shot him a sideways glance. “That wouldn’t be sarcasm I can hear in your voice, would it?”
“Why would I be sarcastic when the woman making the statement predicted—to the second—the time the sun would rise?” He slid his hand down my shoulder and lightly rubbed my arm. Warmth trembled across my limbs, and my fingers and toes began to tingle. As if this man was forcing life into extremities long used to being cold at night. “Another gift of your heritage, I gather?”
“Much like your fire,” I said, voice a little breathless.
He glanced at me, blue eyes gleaming with hunger. He might have said no on the beach, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want me.
“An air dragon’s fire is linked with daylight. Or rather, sunlight.”
“So Dad told me. He never did explain why, though.”