"Catherine…"
His voice dropped low, rough, almost a warning.
Her pulse answered instantly.
His hand rose to her jaw, thumb brushing her neck, and she leaned into him without thinking. Feeling the warmth of his skin, the scent of him...something in her unraveled, something thirsty and wild.
This man… had waited all those years for her… That thought undid her.
Her robe slipped loose. She didn't fix it.
The bare skin of her chest brushed his, and a soft, helpless sound escaped her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his grip tightening gently at her chin.
He was trying—trying to stay careful, to stay in control. He didn't know what Dorian had done that morning, only that something had shaken her. He refused to become another shadow over her.
If he had to, he would step back. He would walk away.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she whispered.
That was all it took.
His mouth crashed into hers.
