Page 91 of Stars in Umbra
Not for that declaration, or forever. Not for the wild, consuming emotion that Mo’s eyes promised every time they locked on hers.
For years, she yearned for an intimate relationship, a partner who would see her beyond the rank, the polished armor, the iron-clad competence.
Now, here was Mo, a man sculpted like a god, thoughtful in ways she had never anticipated, protective without ever being possessive.
Panic rose in her throat, a tidal wave threatening to drown her.
For all her dreams of love, Rina wasn’t ready for the cost.
She stood on the precipice of a monumental career; her brigadier stripes were within reach, and she was a one campaign away from the upper echelons of Peace Corps leadership.
This was the work she lived for; the structure, the responsibility, the bone-deep sense of contribution it gave her. It was her rhythm, her center of gravity, her freedom. She feared losing the core of who she was.
If she allowed his touch to rewrite her, to anchor her to something domestic and soft, what would happen to the steel inside her?
This anxiety clawed behind her ribs, a dark certainty that love had always demanded a compromise she was unwilling to make.
Buried even deeper was a shadow she never spoke aloud: the fear she wasn’t worthy of devotion.
She had loved before, and her former lover had used her loyalty like a leash, keeping her close and discarding her when it suited him.
She had clung on, blaming herself, until she finally walked away, shattered and broken. The Peace Corps saved her; its structure and mission kept her mind busy.
Now, to be vulnerable again?
It was a risk to hand over her heart, especially to a man like Mo, who saw through her bravado and played no games. It was too much, too soon. Too freakin’ real.
She was terrified of losing the woman she fought so hard to become, because in her experience, love had always demanded a compromise.
Rina had come too far to devolve into anything less than who she was.
Even if her soul called out Mo’s name and her spirit yearned with aching agony to run back into his arms.
17
The Veil Will Burn
MOLAN
Mo prowled through the halls and corridors of the Eden II Justice Center.
His eyes raked each exit and all corners, ensuring his team was in place for the final leg of the conference, the top-secret intelligence briefings.
However, lurking at the back of his mind was one intriguing and freakin’ infuriating woman.
Rina’s exit, so calm, yet so chilling, seared into his soul.
It morphed into a vivid nightmare that began with rapturous lovemaking and ended with her storming out of her guest suite like a wildcat in heels.
Leaving behind only her lingering scent on her sheets and the ghost of her kiss on his lips.
Her name echoed in his head, a private mantra.
He repeated it as if it held a hidden power, a magic that might summon her back to him.
His heart roiled with a relentless ache as he sat alone at her breakfast table, his hand wrapped around a cooling mug ofkahawa.
Even after he had long exited her suite, her final words still resounded in his mind.
