Page 70 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck.

She could barely think.

Then, instead of pulling away and giving her the space she desperately needed, Ryker’s fingers traced up her hand. He clasped her wrist, wrapping his much larger fingers around her.

Brynleigh’s heart chose that moment to remember it was supposed to be beating. Now, it tried to escape her chest.

How was it possible that in all her planning, she’d never accounted for the fact that he might touch her? Here she was, playing the game of her lifetime, and somehow, she had completely overlooked this possibility.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, having exploded within her at the point of contact. She scrambled to gather them all, shoving each one deep inside. How many could it hold? How many emotions could she suppress before they ruined her?

She wasn’t certain.

All Brynleigh knew was that Ryker was touching her, and it felt like they were stepping onto a new game board. One where she didn’t know the rules.

She was more frightened than she’d been since the night her family died.

CHAPTER 18

Universes Collide

One single touch was all it took to shift Ryker’s world on its axis.

He hadn’t even done it on purpose.

As soon as he’d entered the room, Brynleigh’s scent had nearly bowled him over. Other aromas had diluted her fragrance in the infirmary, but that was no longer true.

Fae might not have the senses of vampires, but he could pick her out of a crowd, regardless. She smelled like a crisp evening and night-blooming roses. He’d never been one for flowers before, but now, he wanted to be surrounded by them daily for the rest of his life.

Her scent was as intoxicating as the strongest glass of Faerie Wine.

Ryker barely noticed the guard leading him to the table, barely heard him say the server would be around with dinner in a few minutes.

The entirety of his focus was on her.

Finally, the barriers between them were gone. Nothing was keeping him from her but a flimsy table and a pair of blindfolds.

Even sightless, he’d sensed her. His magic had bubbled within him, his water eager to play with her darkness. This had never happened before. Usually, his magic was calm, waiting for him to draw upon it, but not today.

He’d been reaching across the table for a glass of wine, careful not to knock it over, when it happened.

He touched her.

Her skin, soft and cool, had intercepted his. It was just a graze, barely more than a feather’s brush against his hand, but it was everything. The moment they touched, his magic leaped in his veins. He sucked in a breath. His heart pounded.

Universes collided.

He’d dreamed of this moment, but the reality of their touch was far more than he’d ever imagined. Ryker wasn’t a youngling, and he’d had his fair share of partners, but none of those moments had ever felt like this.

And it was a touch.

Brynleigh was soft, whereas he was hard and calloused. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. That, at least, he’d expected. All vampires were like that—polished versions of their previous mortal selves.

Fascinatingly, she was cold. Not freezing, but not warm. It should have worried him or made him want to pull back. Instead, all he wanted to do was cover her with his warmth.

She sucked in a breath, and her hand froze beneath his. Pulling away would be the right, gentlemanly thing to do, but he didn’t. At that moment, Ryker wasn’t feeling like much of a gentleman. Removing this one point of contact would be like taking a knife to his gut.

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