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"I'll just go," she said, but made no move to leave. Her eyes had dropped to my mouth before snapping back up. "Right now. As soon as I figure out which way I came from."
"Yes, you should." But I didn't step back. If anything, I moved closer, until I could see the pulse fluttering at her throat like a captive bird.
She smelled like vanilla and warm skin and something uniquely hers that made my carefully controlled world tilt on its axis.
"You're awfully close," she whispered, her voice husky in a way that sent heat racing through my veins.
"Am I?" My voice had dropped to barely above a murmur. "I hadn't noticed."
"Liar." The word was breathed rather than spoken, carrying enough heat to melt glaciers. "You notice everything. I can tell."
She wasn't wrong. I noticed the way her lips parted slightly when nervous. The way her hands had clenched into fists at her sides, as if fighting the urge to reach for me. The way her breathing had quickened to match mine.
"Tell me," I said, voice rough with barely controlled desire, "why were you in my bed?"
"It smelled like you," she admitted, then looked stunned by her own honesty. Color flooded her face again. "I mean—it was comfortable. The bed. Not you. I don't know what you smell like."
"Don't you?" I leaned closer, close enough to see the golden flecks scattered through her green irises like stardust. "Then why did you say—"
"I should find Daphne," she interrupted, taking a step back that brought her against the bedpost. "Right now. Immediately."
But I followed, drawn by forces beyond logic or propriety. The space between us crackled with tension so thick it was almost visible. "Daphne isn't here. She won't return until morning."
Her eyes widened. "Morning? But I thought—we were supposed to—"
"Supposed to what?" I was close enough now to see the faint freckles across her nose, to count the individual lashes framing those extraordinary eyes. "What were you supposed to do, Lili Anderton?"
We were breathing the same air, existing in the same impossible moment where time seemed suspended.
Her scent surrounded me, something that made every rational thought dissolve into need. I hadn't been this close to a woman in months. Years?
When had I last allowed anyone inside the carefully constructed walls I'd built around my life.
Her hands had come up, ostensibly to push me away, but they merely rested against my chest. Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I could feel the heat of her palms, the slight tremor that betrayed her own struggle with whatever this was between us.
"You can't just..." she started, then licked her lips nervously. The movement drew my attention to her mouth—soft and pink and dangerously close.
"Can't what?"
"Look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you want to..." She swallowed hard, and I watched the movement of her throat with fascination. "Like you want to devour me."
The word hung between us, loaded with implications neither of us had meant to voice. Her breathing had quickened, and mine had matched pace without conscious decision. We stood frozen in a moment that felt suspended outside of time, logic, and everything I thought I understood about myself.
"And if I do?" The words escaped before I could stop them, raw and honest in a way that should have terrified me. "What then, Miss Anderton?"
Her lips parted on a soft gasp. "Edward..."
How she knew my name didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way she said it—breathless and wondering, as if she were tasting something rare and precious.
My hand lifted of its own accord, fingertips barely grazing the silk of her cheek.
She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and that small surrender nearly undid me completely.
"This is madness," I murmured, even as I leaned closer.