Page 82 of Lost in the Moonlight

He pushed a strand of my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. His eyes glittered, and pleasure curved his lips. Happiness filled every crack and crevice of my soul until there was no more room. Until pure bliss threatened to explode from my body like confetti.

“You stun me, Sweetness. With your beauty. Your strength. Your passion. Thank you for giving me this time with you.”

My hands slid over the dark stubble on his jaw. Rough and edgy. Sexy.

The reality hit me like a hammer.

I’d had sex with Lincoln. It was one thing to sleep with the determined man who’d come to my rescue. It was a completely different thing to have slept with Lincoln Matherton.

I swallowed hard as a wave of some emotion I couldn’t quite define hit me.

I didn’t regret what we’d done. I felt remorseful because I’d known if I took this step with him, I’d want to keep him. I’d want him to be mine forever, and my forever had the potential to be too damn short. Too damn hurtful.

This was absolutely the most selfish thing I’d ever done.

The risk to Mom’s life and to Lincoln’s life was just not worth any joy I might have received.

I’d taken the pleasure, these moments with him, even though I’d known I couldn’t return anything more than these fleeting hours.

There was no forever. Not for us.

The love he’d experienced before had been accompanied by so much loss and remorse. How could I possibly have thought I could add one more to his list? He’d said he wouldn’t stand by while another woman he cared about went through tragedy, and even if the Viceroys never found me, even if I could stop hiding or somehow stay hidden amongst his very visible life, nothing would stop me from dying if I’d inherited a mutated gene.

My eyelids closed as waves of grief and remorse flooded over the pleasure, stealing my joy.

He placed quick, gentle kisses along my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead. “You’re making me worry here, Sweetness. Tell me you’re okay.”

When I opened my eyes again, only concern and kindness existed in the depths of his, and it made me feel impossibly worse. He’d given me so much in such a short span of time. Marked so many things off my list. Added so much happiness.

I’d wanted to banish his shadows from the moment we’d met, but the truth was, all I could do was bring him more.

I swallowed over the lump in my throat, knowing I couldn’t tell him any of that, knowing he’d object and insist there wasa way for us to be together. I stroked his face gently and gave him the truth so he’d feel it as much as I did. “It was beautiful, Lincoln.”

When his face broke into an enormous smile, it took my breath away all over again. The exquisiteness of it had me leaning in to kiss him softly before burying my face in the crook of his neck.

I wouldn’t ruin this moment for him. I’d already acted selfish enough. I’d give him this.

I’d give us both this, and then I’d have to find a way to untangle us. Find a way to sever the ties before I wounded him in some irrevocable way.

It was too late for me. I was already marked and maimed and branded. But the pleasure of this brief encounter would have to last me a lifetime because I’d learned something through it. I’d never let someone leap into the void of the unknown with me again. If you truly cared about someone, you wouldn’t willingly accept their love and then turn around and put it in a blender. You did whatever you could to protect them. To keep them whole in body, spirit, and mind.

I didn’t need to worry about potential FFI symptoms kicking in and ruining things for us, because we’d never survive past these stolen hours. I couldn’t choose my happiness over his or my mom’s. I wouldn’t risk either of them losing more than they already had.

So, in the morning, I’d go home. I’d do something to ensure he stayed away. Say whatever it took. Push him back to his corner before it was too late.

But for now, I wrapped my arms around him tighter and listened to the rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. Soothing. Calming.

He relaxed completely, his breath turning easy and soft, his shoulders letting go, and his arms loosening. And finally, he slept. Even though I desperately wanted to see his face while he dreamed, I didn’t move for fear of waking him. If an insomniac slept, you let them. You did nothing to disturb them. You let them get those few minutes. Those few precious hours.

I’d keep him close for a handful more poignant and beautiful moments, and then I’d let him go.

Part Three

This was going to be more fun than I’d expected.

I’d stormed into town with death on my mind.

But seeing what was already at play gave me other ideas.

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