Page 66 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir

My heart slams hard against my ribs, but I don’t push.

Don’t chase.

Just wait.

She closes the distance.

Her mouth brushes mine—barely a whisper of contact.

Soft.

Testing.

Breaking me open.

I groan low, reaching up, tangling a hand in her hair, pulling her closer.

Kissing her like she’s the only real thing in the goddamn universe.

She kisses me back—hungry and hesitant all at once.

Like she’s fighting herself and losing.

Good.

Because I’m already lost.

Hopelessly, stupidly lost for her.

Always have been.

Always will be.

When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard.

"You staying?" she whispers, voice small and raw.

My fingers tighten gently against the back of her neck.

"I’ll stay," I rasp.

She nods against me, like she’s holding onto that little promise with both hands.

Without another word, she stands, offering me her hand.

I take it.

Of course I take it.

She leads me across the cracked floor, past the kids sleeping sound, past the shattered dreams we've both carried too long.

Into the little back room where she sleeps.

It isn’t much.

Barely a mattress, a few thin blankets.

But when she curls into my side and lets out a soft, shaky breath against my chest...

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