Page 22 of Savage Reins
I freeze. Can't move forward, can't step back. Can't do anything but stare at the way water beads on his shoulders and drips from the ends of his hair.
He turns at the sound of my footsteps, and our eyes lock. Neither of us moves. The barn suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker. I can hear my own breathing, can feel my pulse hammering against my ribs.
"I…" I start then stop, clear my throat, and try again. "Liniment."
He steps aside without a word, giving me access to the shelf. But the space is narrow, and when I reach for the bottle, my arm brushes against his. His skin is warm and damp, and the contact sends electricity racing up my spine.
I grab the bottle and turn to go, but his voice stops me. "Mira."
I don't turn around, can't trust myself to look at him again. "What?"
"We should talk."
"No. We shouldn't."
I take a step toward the door, but he moves to block my path. He's not threatening, just… there. Solid and immovable and too close.
"About yesterday."
I force myself to meet his eyes, to keep my voice steady when every instinct screams at me to run.
"What happened was a mistake," I say. "You're good-looking, and I'm only human. But it won't happen again."
His expression doesn't change, but I see his jaw tighten. "Is that what you think it was? A mistake?"
"I know that's what it was."
"And if I said I disagree?"
My heart stutters, but I shake my head. "Doesn't change anything. You're here to destroy everything I care about. I can't forget that."
"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to be honest."
"I am being honest."
"No. You're being scared."
His accusation hits closer to home than I want to admit. I am scared. Terrified of the way he makes me feel, of how easily he breaks through every defense I've built. But admitting that gives him power I can't afford to lose.
"I need to get back to work," I say.
I start to walk past him, but he catches my wrist. His thumb traces across my pulse point, and I know he can feel how fast my heart is racing.
"Mira."
"Let me go, please…"
He does, immediately. Drops his hand and steps back, giving me room to leave. But he doesn't stop watching me, doesn't let me escape the weight of his attention.
"This isn't over," he says quietly.
I don't answer, can't trust my voice not to betray everything I'm trying to hide. Instead, I walk away, forcing myself to move at a normal pace when every muscle in my body wants to run.
But he's right, and we both know it. I can feel his eyes on me until I'm out of sight, can feel the pull between us even through walls and distance. The taste of him still lingers on my lips, and the memory of his hands on my skin makes my knees weak.
I lean against the mare's stall door and close my eyes, trying to get my breathing under control. She nickers softly and bumps my shoulder with her nose, and I stroke her neck without thinking.
"You're right, girl," I whisper. "I'm in trouble."
