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Gingerly I walk around his dining room, his magic compelling me onwards.

This is going to be embarrassing.

I stop in front of him. When I glance up, he wears a serious expression.

My gaze drops to his jaw. That strong, razor-sharp jaw of his. Carefully, I wrap and arm around his neck and pull his face closer to me. He bends to accommodate me.

Our eyes meet briefly, his glittering as he stares at me.

This feels too raw. Like we aren’t bound by debts. Like I’m something other than his client right now.

He didn’t want to leave me seven years ago.

Softly, I brush a kiss along that defined jaw of his.

I forgive you for breaking my heart,I think as I kiss him.

Angling his face to the side, I press another kiss to his jaw.

I still want you.

Another kiss.

I think I always will.

Des stays still, letting me trail kisses along the edge of his jaw.

Touching him, kissing him draws up goosebumps along my skin. It feels like there’s a storm on the horizon, something big and unstoppable that’s rolling in. Something that will sweep us away. And dear God, I want to be swept away.

The Bargainer’s magic continues to press against my skin. I nip his ear, earning a low noise from Des. My mouth moves down the strong column of his throat, the siren awakening within me. Dragging the collar of his T-shirt down, I touch my tongue to the hollow at the base of his throat.

The magic dissipates.

I blink several times, as if waking from a dream. My mouth still hovers right over his skin. With effort, I straighten, releasing his shirt.

“You’ve always wanted to do that to me?” Des asks gruffly.

Shaking off the last of my daze, I nod. His brows are pinched together, his mouth stern.

“Since I was sixteen.”

Back then I’d wanted to kiss him along his jaw and neck because it seemed romantic, erotic. To a teenage girl who wanted a relationship but was afraid of sex, kissing a man there seemed like a good compromise.

Des covers my hand with his, holding it against his neck, his nostrils flaring with some strong emotion.

“Do it again,” he says.

My eyebrows rise. So it wasn’t all just in my head? Des felt that spark between us too?

I slip my hand from his to tilt his jaw to me. Once more my lips skim his skin.

He’d agonized over our time apart.

He called it a nightmare. And I believe him.

But where does that leave us? What does any of it mean?

My mouth moves down his neck once more.