Page 3 of Firefly

“That’s great.” His smile was forced, and it turned the knife already buried in her chest.

“You’ve been gone for half a year.”

“Not by choice,” he whispered, inching closer as she leaned back into the counter behind her.

Her words were barely a breath as she asked: “Were you forbidden from seeing us?”

“No—”

That single word brought her fiery temper raging back. Or perhaps it was her only defense against the loneliness and rejection rising in her. “My father told me everything, so don’t bother lying.”

She had given Simon all of herself—her body, her heart—and he had left without a word. Some small part of her had prayed Alexander was lying, but in the end, he had been right. No one cared for her. No one would ever love her.

She tucked her fractured heart back into its dark corner and resolved to give him the honesty he didn’t deserve.

“We missed you, Simon. I missed you.”

It wasn’t meant as anything but truth. Perhaps she hoped if she gave him a bit of honesty, he would do the same.

He closed the last bit of distance between them, saying nothing, and she steadied herself for the blow. His truth would cut deep, but she had to hear it; she had to know it was always one-sided so she could move on with her life.

He raised one hand and froze, a question in his eyes.

She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you.”

A lie.

After she’d just promised herself she would give him the truth. But perhaps the lie was for herself because, in this moment, nothing terrified her more than what she knew would come next.

His hand closed over hers, and gently, he pried her fingers from the cup, kissing each one as he did.

She sucked in a breath.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, and she tasted the truth of his words.

“I know.”

He set the cup down beside her and pulled her toward him. She let him, not daring to breathe as his head tilted to the side, his nose grazing the side of her cheek.

Warm breath caressed her ear as he said, “I’ve missed you more than you could imagine.”

Chapter 3

Simon

He inhaled her scent. It was sweet, rose petals dripping with morning dew, and it was heaven. He buried his face in her hair, releasing one hand to let his fingers trail down the soft fabric at her back.

Shocks of electricity danced between the fabric of her robe and his skin. In their wake, waves of desire followed. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than her body pressed against his—flesh against flesh. And as if his thoughts were mirrored in her own, a mad frenzy overtook her as she pulled at her robe, revealing pale, creamy skin.

He released her, moving a breath away, and she stopped undressing, her eyes meeting his as her glazed expression cleared.

She stumbled back into the counter, her pulse thrumming wildly. “What... What did you do?”

It took a moment for his own mind to clear and the words to sink in. She was blaming him for her sudden desire.

“I didn’t…” he faltered.

Her hand went to her chest. “Please, let me go.”