Page 23 of When You Are Mine

“I suppose Walsh has been notified.” She spoke into the silence Dr. Myer was affording her to process the news.

“Yes, I believe he’s in her room now. As you can imagine, he’s having a pretty tough time with it.” The doctor’s eyes drifted to the left and then to the right and then down to his watch. “I’m sorry, Kerris, but I have a patient waiting.”

Kerris brushed past him, heading toward Iyani’s room. She watched Walsh for a moment from the doorway. He’d settled his leanly muscled length in the middle of Iyani’s bed, long legs pulled into a loose lotus position, forearms resting on his knees. She crossed to him without thought, slowing her steps the closer she got, until she was standing directly in front of him sitting on the bed.

“Walsh, I’m so sorry.”

For a moment he didn’t acknowledge her presence, but continued to stare down at his fist, clenched around Iyani’s bracelet. She covered his hand with her own.

“Just in case.” The heavy fist of grief flattened his voice.

“I’m so sorry.” Saying it again didn’t help, but she couldn’t hold back the useless words.

“I just,” he started and stopped, a muscle flexing in his jaw before he continued. “I just don’t get it. She came through the surgery fine.”

“I know.” Kerris reached up to stroke the back of his head.

“I ended up spending the night, sleeping in the chair. I went downstairs to grab a muffin and some coffee. I was gone for only a minute, and when I came back in the room, all hell had broken loose.” His brows snapped together. “And they said…they said…”

“Oh, Walsh.” Tears soaked her words. She leaned forward to hug him awkwardly, the edge of the bed separating them.

He pulled her closer, forcing her to climb onto the edge of the bed on her knees. She pulled his head into the crook of her neck. His tears wet the shoulder of her denim jacket and her own tears trekked down her cheeks. She wanted to tear down the childish drawings on the walls. To pop the cheery balloons floating above them. To knock over the vases holding flowers from those who’d been pulling for Iyani. Instead, she just rocked back and forth as Walsh held her, for how long she didn’t know. His tears stopped, but she knew he was drawing as much solace from her as she was from the warm surrounding strength of his arms.

“Are you okay?” She finally drew back just enough to see his face.

Even though he sat in the center of the bed, legs crossed, and she was on her knees in front of him, his superior height left her only a few inches above him. Her arms hung loosely over the muscles of his broad shoulders. She stroked the closely cropped waves at the back of his head, soft and cool beneath her fingers. He dropped a thick fan of lashes over his grief-darkened eyes and lowered his forehead to her shoulder, turning into her neck. He inhaled.

“Vanilla.” His warm breath misted her neck with that one word, inciting goose bumps across the skin. “You always smell like vanilla.”

Her smile shook, and she started to pull away, but his hands tightened on her waist. He leaned up, tilting his head and brushing his firm lips across her slightly open mouth. At the brief contact, liquid fire rushed down her nerve endings. His kiss was a feather and a flame, raising goose bumps and heating her skin. Something blossomed in her chest, unfurling and straining toward him. She pressed closer, defenseless against sensations she’d never experienced with anyone before. One of Walsh’s strong hands left her waist, reaching for her chin to bring her face closer. The velvet of his tongue traced the still-drying tears on her cheeks before returning to her mouth, now clamped closed against the temptation of his.

“Open.” Walsh gave the gentle command. An intimate invitation. An irresistible dare.

Sanity was a fugitive on the run from reason. Her mouth fell open. He wasted no time, plunging in to plunder, devouring her with unchecked hunger. He groaned, sending the hand at her waist on an expedition across the curve of her hip to grip the firm sleekness of the bare thigh beneath her dress.

“Kerris.” His voice seemed to have fallen octaves, its deep timbre inspiring her to shudder. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop.” Her hands made a lie of the weak plea. She pressed them to the strong vein in his neck. Urging him to continue. Pulling him closer.

“Not very convincing,” he whispered, pulling her head down to hover over his open lips, luring her to close the space between their mouths.

Heat crawled up between them, their lips and tongues tangling. Walsh reached up, fingers fumbling at the buttons of the denim jacket Kerris wore over her dress. The jacket fell open. Walsh reached one hand behind her to press the softness of her back, almost spanning the narrow expanse of it. His fingers slid under the spaghetti straps of the dress, caressing her shoulder, trailing down to stroke the soft curves beneath her dress. Her breasts tightened with a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. Kerris gasped, pulling back abruptly. They both panted, his breath heavy and hot on her kiss-swollen lips, rising from the dying flame of that kiss.

Her passion-clouded eyes slowly cleared. Sanity made a belated reappearance.

“Oh, gosh.” She scooted back to put distance between them, and then slid off the bed altogether.

“Um, that was bad. It was…an accident.” Her hand covered the throbbing fullness of her mouth.

“It’s an accident when cars collide.” The remnants of desire hoarsened Walsh’s voice. “When lips collide it’s a kiss. That wasn’t an accident, and we need to talk about it.”

“No, we don’t.” She fumbled through rebuttoning her jacket, fingers shaking. She closed her eyes for a few erratic heartbeats, struggling to rein in her body’s response. She was a running engine slowly cooling down. “We have to forget that happened. It was…Iyani, and we were comforting each other, and the emotions got out of control and…misplaced.”

“Is that how you’ll explain it to Cam?”

“Cam!” Panic expelled the name from her mouth with the report of a bullet. “You absolutelycannottell Cam. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t, either.” He stretched out one arm to pull her to him by the front of her jacket.

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