Page 19 of Kane

Three little words, spoken like a statement of fact. As though Kane had no doubts—while I had nothingbutthem. Especially after hearing that. And being told to think what I wanted, as ifmy guesses about what he meant were totally off the mark when they were the only things that made sense.

I suddenly remembered the bag he’d brought and picked it up, then dumped the contents onto the mattress in front of me. Five paper-wrapped books tumbled out.Huh.I opened the first one and was shocked when I saw it was a reprint that included a bonus epilogue from one of my favorite romance authors. Quickly, I tore open the rest and found four new releases by authors I loved.

Dumbfounded, I stared at the pretty paperbacks and tried to figure out what they meant. He’d gone to a bookstore and bought meromance novels? The big, scary biker? The image made me giggle, but then I scolded myself not to let this soften me toward him.Too late.

“Ugh!” I dragged in a deep breath and flopped backward onto the bed, careful not to bump the tray while I glared at the ceiling like it might offer answers. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

Instead, all I got was a deeper whiff of that scent of cedar, clove, and leather.

Suddenly, the reason it kept deepening every morning hit me.

It wasn’t because the sheets hadn’t been washed or because Kane was sitting on the bed during the day. The scent was too fresh for that. It always intensified overnight because he’d been sleeping here with me.

And I slept so soundly in his bed that I’d had no idea.

I bolted upright again, clutching the comforter like it might steady me.

I tried to tell myself I was imagining things. That maybe the scent clung to the pillows just because he spent time in here with me sometimes. But this wasn’t some faint, leftover trace. It was steeped into the fabric. Into the mattress. Into the air itself.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

He’d been in this bed. While I slept.

Next to me.

A flood of conflicting feelings surged all at once. Shock, confusion, fear…and something else I wasn’t ready to name.

This was a massive violation of boundaries. I should have been furious. Yet I had felt safe enough to sleep through the night with him beside me. Better than I had in years.

My stomach twisted. I didn’t want that to mean anything. To attach a feeling of safety to a man who’d abducted me and was trying to use me as leverage against my brother.

But there was no denying the facts.

The implication of what this could mean made my appetite disappear, so I set the tray on the bedside table before flopping back again and burying my face in the pillow. The one that smelled like him.

“Get it together, Savannah,” I muttered.

Because whatever this was couldn’t be real. Not under these circumstances. And I couldn’t afford to start wishing it was.

If I did, I might not want Kane to let me go.

8

KANE

Savannah was wrapped around me like a siren holding me in her clutches.

When I’d brought her clothes from her apartment, I’d deliberately left out pajamas, giving her my shirts to wear to bed instead.

Now, one bare leg was tangled over mine, her soft thigh pressed against my hip. Her arm rested across my stomach, fingers curled into my side like she was afraid to let me go. And her head—fuck me—her head was tucked under my chin, her breath warm where it feathered against my collarbone.

I’d woken up to worse.

But never anything this fucking dangerous.

It was early, and pale streaks of dawn were just barely filtering through the blinds. The AC hummed quietly above us, and for a few seconds, I let myself lie there, breathing her in like the addict I was becoming. Every inhale brought her scent—warm vanilla, soft citrus, and something uniquely her that clung to my sheets and was now embedded in my skin.

This had been a mistake. One I kept repeating every night. Over and over, until slipping into this room and climbing intobed with Savannah became the only thing that quieted the chaos in my head.