Page 139 of Esperance

His dark eyebrows raised.

Her entire face burned. Why had she blurtedthatof all things? It had sounded like an invitation! “I-I didn’t mean that,” she stammered. “Not likethat, I mean. I just—the couch is uncomfortable, and—I’m sorry. I mean, I’m grateful, I just—”

A long finger touched her lips, stopping her flood of words. His wide lips twitched. “Amryn? Go to bed.”

Her blush was painful. The calloused pad of his finger brushed against her lower lip as his hand fell, and his shining blue eyes were all she could see as she said quietly, “All right.”

But her thoughts were far too errant, and her mouth tingled from his casual touch. It reminded her of other touches that hadnotbeen casual, but deliberate, scorching, and all-consuming.

It was far too late at night, and her tongue was loose in the dark. Staring at him, she whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

Something in his eyes changed. Heated. His desire flared, flooding her senses.

Her blush wasn’t as fierce as before, but it was still very present. Saints, was that the sort of thing she was supposed to admit? Probably not.

Self-consciousness bled in, but she tried to force that back as she said, “I just . . . I wanted to tell you. To thank you. Because it was a very nice first kiss.”

His blue eyes had never looked brighter as his fingers tightened around her hand.

Her breath caught as he leaned in, but his lips only touched her forehead before he drew back.

When he spoke—though the words were the same as before—his voice was lower and rougher. “Amryn? Go to bed.”

This time, she obeyed.

But even after she climbed into bed, she didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

If Carver’s emotions were anything to go by, he didn’t, either.

Chapter 36

Carver

Tomorrow was the Feast of Remembrance.It had been four days since Amryn had trusted him with the Rising’s plan, which meant it had also been four days since Carver had kissed her. Every day that passed without another kiss killed him.

Amryn was holding back. It wasn’t a hesitancy born of newness, either; she’d never been kissed before, but she’d enjoyed it. She’d eventhankedhim.

No, she seemed to be holding back fromhim. And he didn’t know why.

When she’d come to him and confessed everything, he’d been so bloody relieved. And after he’d returned from visiting Ford and she’d been waiting in the sitting room for him . . . They’d spoken about important things, and she’d even said she trusted him.

He should have just kissed her again that night.Reallykissed her, not that innocent brush of his lips against her brow.

Of course, it had only been innocent in the sense that he’d avoidedher mouth. What he felt when his lips touched her skin was decidedlynotinnocent.

The couch had beenveryuncomfortable that night.

He had to keep reminding himself why he hadn’t truly kissed her that night. His emotions had been too strong; that stone bridge he normally anchored himself on was nowhere to be found. Not when there was moonlight in Amryn’s eyes, and her scent filled his lungs, and she was standing there in a long white nightgown, her feet bare.

Kissing her the first time had been an unstoppable impulse. Sheer relief, mixed with pure elation. But if he’d kissed her again outside that bedroom door . . . it felt like he would have been taking advantage of her vulnerability.

She was beautiful, sweet, and innocent. She’d started that evening thinking he was going to arrest her—or worse.

So he hadn’t kissed her again. And, honestly, he still thought that was the right decision. But after four days of nothing between them, he was getting desperate. He wanted to hold her again. Taste her. Swallow every moan she offered while he tangled his fingers in her fiery red hair.

His entire body tightened just thinking about it.

And in his distraction, Argent disarmed him.