Page 51 of Mercy in Betrayal

Her gaze catches on mine. “What?”

I shake my head and turn toward the tunnel. “Nothing.”

Dim tungsten lights line either side of the tunnel’s sloping walls. As we walk down the path, the pounding of an incomprehensible weight of water roars above our heads. Rowan’s eyes flicker up to the arched ceiling, and her fingers tighten around mine.

“We are right under the falls,” I say.

She glances at me, her gaze open. “That’s rather terrifying.”

“We’re perfectly safe here.” Reaching out, I let my fingers trace her jawline. “I wonder if anyone has ever kissed under the falls?”

The wonder of being the first to do something out of the ordinary sparks in her blue eyes, but she purses her lips and remains silent.

“Still cutting off your nose to spite your face.” I reach up and pinch her nose gently between my fingers. She lifts her gaze to mine, and her tongue flicks out to wet her lips.

It’s invitation enough for me. Without further conversation, I press my lips against hers, only mildly surprised when I’m the one who sighs into the kiss.

I need this contact with her. The truth of it pisses me off, and I’ll deny it to anyone but myself, but there it is.

I need her kiss like I need air.

When I walked back into the wedding venue earlier, it was Rowan who anchored me, even as pissed as she was at me. If she hadn’t been there, I would have killed Luca and died in the process.

I don’t think I realized at the time how powerful her hold over me was.

I’m not sure I like that. I break the gentle kiss and suck her bottom lip in hard. She moans, and my cock stiffens, giving me the excuse I need to shift my mindset from these pussy ideas to thoughts of pussy.

“You know, we’d probably be the first people to have sex under the waterfall.”

I expect her to step away from me. I hope she doesn’t because I’m going to take her under these falls.

“You see an opportunity in everything.” Her tone is mild.

“No matter how bad a situation is, there is always an opportunity.” Raising her hand, I peel the glove away and bring her hand to my mouth, licking a hot kiss against its center.

Rowan shivers but doesn’t back away; she wants this, too. Instead, she throws her head back and looks at the roof of the tunnel. Closing her eyes, she smiles softly, listening to the power of the water pouring over our heads. One crack and we would die; ants under the crush of a heeled boot.

It’s exhilarating, though. I know she feels it, too—that tenuous balance of power and helplessness.

“I’m not sure I want to have sex with you,” Rowan says, keeping her eyes closed. A small smile plays on her lips.

“I’m not sure I want to have sex with you, either,” I reply. Liar. I know I do.

Her eyes snap open. “You suggested it.”

“And you’re thinking about it.” I respond by dragging her body closer to me.

“I might be.” She’s slowly melting, and my cock is getting harder with each passing second.

“How can I convince you?” I press a kiss just below her earlobe.

“I want you to grovel.”

I laugh and step back. “How would I grovel?” I ask, knowing I won’t do it. Enzo Scarpetta doesn’t grovel, not for man or woman. But she’s half smiling, so I entertain her and slip out of my jacket. Time enough to disabuse her of that idea later. I lay the coat out in the center of the tunnel like a blanket before I shrug out of my suit jacket.

“You want me to get on my knees? Look what happened the last time I did.” My cock throbs as I think about how I ate her out.

Rowan bites her bottom lip.

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