Page 67 of Kingdom of Chains

‘A lot of things.’

‘You were simply keeping me warm.’ Her eyes were liquid in the dark. ‘And tonight there is no fire at all.’

Knowing he could not let her freeze when she was asking him for warmth, he lay beside her, face to face, his body pressed to hers.

‘Is that better?’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘What do you need?’

‘Can you put your arm around me?’

When he did not move, she reached for his hand and dragged it across her body until his fingers grazed her back. She emitted the softest breath when they pressed against her spine.

She was killing him.

‘Is that better?’ he asked again.

And once again, she shook her head. ‘My face is cold.’

He had a physical reaction to those words.

Undeterred by his silence and lack of action, Isabel brought her mouth closer to his. ‘Your breath is warm.’

Her words hit his lips, making every inch of him pay attention. ‘Isabel—’

‘Ryder.’

He searched her face. ‘I’m going back to Chadora.’

She continued to study his face. ‘Then we do not have much time left together, do we?’

He swallowed.

‘I did not know it could be like this,’ she said.

‘It?’

‘We have not even kissed yet, and I feel all light-headed and hot.’

She had definitely saidyet.

‘Every time he touches me, I want only to move away.’ Her leg moved against his beneath the blanket. ‘And every time you touch me, I cannot get close enough.’

His restraint dissolved, and he closed the gap between them, kissing her. He was aiming for gentle, but there was nothing gentle about it. The act was fuelled by hunger and frustration, and he expected her to draw back in shock, recoil, reprimand him. Then he would hate himself a little more for it.

But she did not draw back. Isabel inhaled the kiss and reached up to draw him closer. They kissed this way for a number of minutes, mutual pent-up tension working its way outof their bodies. Then the energy between them began to settle, their hands wandering beneath the blanket.

Now he was gentle.

Now he could kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed.

‘My neck is cold,’ she whispered into his open mouth.

He trailed soft kisses down her throat, warming every inch of skin with his breath, before returning to eye level. ‘Better?’ he whispered.

‘Why did you stop?’