Hooray, you found the kiss! Just fill in your info in the form below and you get an extra entry in the monthly giveaway. Read on below for a sneak peek at Devilishly Dark, the next in my Dreamcaster Series.
Pain twisted Zaire’s heart. Rebecca was ashamed of what she was. He hated that anyone made her feel shame for anything. He lurched closer, and the fact she stepped back against the counter burned. “You need not hide from me. I know what you are, what you can do, the plagues you face alone. I understand.”
Her lovely mouth twisted in an almost-sneer. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He swung forward on his crutches and killed the space between them. Rebecca’s bewitching autumn scent surrounded him, and he breathed her into his lungs, making her part of him. He leaned in so she had to arch her neck to hold his gaze.
“I know you came to Montana to get away from something irrational. I know you believe you’re hopeless. I know you smell like heaven, look like sin’s temptation, and possess the heart of a saint.” He nearly shuddered at her hitched breath, and every part of him stiffened in sweet agony. “You helped an injured stranger on your doorstep and allowed him sanctuary from the storm, risking your own safety.”
“I couldn’t leave you to die.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and her gaze dropped to his mouth only inches away.
Zaire couldn’t bear it a moment longer. Never looking away from her, he leaned one crutch against the counter and cupped the back of her neck with his free hand. He stifled a groan at the silk of her curls beneath his fingertips. Black satin, just as he’d imagined in a million fantasies. He dipped his mouth to hers.
Her surprised huff drowned as the rose petals of her luscious lips melted beneath his. She planted her hands on his chest, as if to push him away, but the rejection never came. Her fingers curled in his sweater and pulled him closer, her gun a cold, hard press on his heart.
Every fiber of his being sang. She wanted him. He nearly wept in both relief and regret. His dreamcaster wanted him, and he couldn’t keep her.
Rebecca pressed her small body into his, a silent demand, a demand he dare not deny. He flicked his tongue at the seam of her lips, and she opened with a sigh. She tasted of cinnamon and apples, sweet and spicy, a divine nectar made for him and him alone. But not now. Not here. Not yet. Breaking the kiss took every ounce of willpower he had.
“Rebecca, you destroy me.” He rested his forehead against hers, his breath ragged.
“Are you some sort of witch or something?” She gasped, still clinging to him. “I don’t kiss strangers, patients, or exorcists. In general.”