Page 45 of An Enchanted Spring
“Do you often have attempts on your life?” she breathed, her eyes wide with worry.
“Not anymore,” he murmured. “We’re going to have to leave again, Emmaline. I’m sorry.”
“He told you I’m his, then?” she asked. She unscrewed the cap and squeezed some of the cream onto her fingers. “That he owns me, and that he’s promised to kill me?”
“Something to that effect, aye.”
“Grand,” she replied softly, her brows knitting together in concentration as she gently touched her shaking fingertips to his chest.
Electricity jolted through him at her touch, and his muscles jumped. She pulled her hand back quickly.
“It hurts?”
He shook his head, unable—unwilling—to explain his reaction. She began to smooth the cream over his chest more carefully.
Her feather-light touch drove him to the brink of his restraint.
Emma carefully rubbed it into his skin before capping the tube and holding up her hand. “I need to wipe this off.”
Slowly, giving her time to tell him no, he pulled the towel from around his waist and gently wiped her hand, dragging the soft cotton over the back of her hand, through her fingers, and over her palm.
She shuddered and closed her eyes.
He raised her other hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, inhaling her scent. Fresh. Clean.
His.
“This is madness,” he said, his voice raw. “Tell me to go to hell, Emmaline.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He kissed her palm, then took her mouth in a long, deep kiss that seared him straight to his soul.
She traced his biceps, rubbing her hands over his shoulders, and tangled her fingers into his hair. He groaned into her mouth as she pressed herself against him, her body soft, pliant, and completely at his mercy.
Soft, pliant…and completely vulnerable.
The thought was like a bucket of cold water; he broke the kiss and took in her flushed face, lush lips, and dreamy expression.
“Emma,” he started.
“No,” she said in a low voice.
He felt the stab of disappointment deep and tried to tell himself it was for the best.
“If I only get this one chance,” she said, “thisonlychance to have you, to see what this is between us…I want it.”
His heart thudded heavily against his chest. He saw honesty in her eyes, and he knew he would deny her nothing.
His lips met hers again, and he vowed to make it the best day—and night—of her life.
With what he and Reilly had planned, it might be all they could have.
Chapter 9
Emma couldn’t believe it was happening. Aidan MacWilliam, no longer in an almost-too-small white towel, was kissing her like he was a starving man and she was a full-on feast.
All of the deep fear she’d felt a moment ago vanished when his lips moved over hers.
