Page 33 of Sachie's Hero

She lifted her face to him. “And I hope you do as well,” she whispered.

He stared down into her eyes, his own dark, enigmatic pools.

Holding her close, his body pressed to hers, all he had to do was lean down a little, and he’d be close enough to kiss her. On her lips, not her forehead.

Never in her life had Sachie wished so hard for a man to claim her lips.

When he stepped away, her heart sank into her belly.

Hell, what had she expected? He was there to protect her, not kiss her.

About to duck into her room and scream her frustration into her pillow, she was stopped by strong arms coming up around her and drawing her close again.

“I want to kiss you,” Teller said. “But only if you want me to.”

She stared up into his face. “More than you can imagine.”

He chuckled. “I can imagine a lot.” His hand rose and brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. “It should be wrong to kiss you.”

She raised her hands to rest against his chest. “Why? I want you to kiss me.”

“You’re my client,” he said. “But no matter how wrong itshouldbe...” he cupped the back of her neck and leaned down until his lips hovered over hers, “...it feels so right.”

Her patience exceeding its limit, Sachie rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his, taking the decision out of his hands. She wanted the kiss so much that she was certain screaming into a pillow would not have been enough to ease her frustration.

But this kiss...

He started out slowly, gently exploring her mouth. When his tongue tested the seam between her lips,she opened to him, letting him past her teeth. He swept her tongue in a long, languorous caress that made her entire body tingle and then burn as her blood heated and her pulse quickened.

Sachie curled her fingers into his shirt, bringing him closer, urging him to take more. Every part of her yearned for more. She couldn’t get close enough, wishing she could press her skin to his, unfettered, unblocked by the fabric separating them.

When she raised her hands to encircle the back of his neck, he lifted his head, cupped her cheek and smiled down at her in the starlight.

“We should call it a night,” he said, his voice as rough as gravel. His thumb traced her lips, and he bent once more to brush his lips where his thumb had been. Then he stepped back. “Morning will be here before we know it.”

Kissing this man once had only made her want to do it again.

Yet, Teller seemed content to stop at one.

“Good night, Sachie,” he said.

“Good night,” she managed to say.

Teller turned toward his door.

When she didn’t move, he stopped, his brow dipping.

“You go on. I want to sit out here a little longer,” she said.

His frown deepened. “I can’t leave you out here. What if your stalker turns up?”

“Kalea and Hawk assured me the security is tight.” She forced a smile. “I’ll be fine. You must be exhausted. Please, don’t stay up on my account.”

Again, he shook his head. “I’m not going in until you do.”

She glanced toward her door, her belly clenching. If she returned to her bedroom and climbed into the bed, she’d lie awake for as long as she could. But once she succumbed to exhaustion, the same dream would return, forcing her to relive the event, to stand by as her patient ended his life. She’d hear the echo of the blast, feel the splatter of blood across her face and feel the overwhelming sense of failure that weighed heavily on her heart.

“Hey,” Teller touched a finger beneath her chin and turned her to face him. “Are you afraid to go to sleep?”

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