The damp stickiness between her thighs was already growing cold, and her leg ached where it was wedged against the door, but she was too busy struggling with the reality of what they had just done to care.
What she had just done.
The consequences of her actions exploded inside her head in the same way that Farlan had just exploded inside her body.
She knew she should regret it. It had probably made everything a hundred times more awkward between them, and giving in to temptation had been weak and selfish and wrong. And yet how could anything that had felt so good, so right, be wrong?
It had been like skating together on a frozen lake. For those few miraculous moments they had been in harmony, their bodies perfectly synchronised, every touch, every breath flowing like water.
Farlan shifted against her—and just like that she heard the ice crack beneath them, and a cool, relentless thread of reality begin winding its way up through her body.
But this wasn’t just about her and her feelings…
‘Nia—’
His voice was hoarse, uncertain. Fearing his regret, or worse, she kept her head lowered. Just for a moment she wanted to linger here, in his arms, cocooned in this snow-covered vehicle, in the space between hope and fantasy, where their mutual hunger had distorted time and merged the past with the present.
‘Nia.’
There was no escaping his hand, and as he tilted her face up to his there was no escaping his questioning eyes either.
But he didn’t speak again, and she felt her heart begin beating faster once more.
She had been foolish and reckless, but not a day passed when she didn’t feel some kind of regret for the way she had acted, for the way her life had turned out.
She was tired of living with regrets, and she didn’t want to add these moments to the list. Whatever he said now—whatever happened next—she had wanted Farlan and he had wanted her.
Maybe she hadn’t been in control of herself or her hunger, but acting on her desire had made her feel more powerful and alive than she had in years, and she wouldn’t—she couldn’t—wish that away.
She took a breath. ‘I’m not expecting you to feel the same way…’ The words spilled out of her mouth. ‘But I just want you to know that I don’t regret it.’
There—she had said it.
She couldn’t go back in time.
She couldn’t unpick the mess she had made or erase the memories.
But if this was the last moment they shared she was glad that she had told him the truth. Glad that in the future she could look back and know that this time, at least, they hadn’t parted with mistrust and confusion.
‘I don’t regret it either.’
His hands tangled in her hair, bunching it in his fists as if to prevent her escape. He kissed her again, his mouth heating hers.
‘How could I regret that? Did you think I would? That I could?’
He seemed confused, almost stunned. And, meeting his gaze, she saw that he looked as blindsided as she felt.
‘I don’t know.’ She stopped. ‘Maybe. It all happened so fast.’
Except it hadn’t—not really.
Ever since Farlan had walked into the drawing room five days ago she had felt as though she was standing at the shore, watching a wave build out at sea, waiting for it to come crashing over her head.
Only the details—the time, the place—had been unscripted. As had the aftermath.
‘I didn’t plan it—’
‘I know.’