Page 87 of The Duke With the Dragon Tattoo

I know.

And I won’t.

His skin blanched pale beneath his tan. Sweat gathered at his temples, cooling in the stormy breeze let in through the window.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door, and Farah’s voice called softly, “Is everything all right?”

He tensed, but looked to her.

Lorelai had to clear her throat before replying, “All is well.”

“Good night, then.” Lorelai was certain his ears also pricked to the sound oftwosets of footsteps retreating from the door.

She went to move her hand, and he hesitated in letting her go, as though reluctant for her to see what was beneath her palm.

The action befuddled her. One cannot see another’s heart through the chest, only through the eyes. Everyone knew that. So, why did he seem disinclined to show her his chest?

She blinked down at the hands covering hers, scarred and rough and square. They trembled slightly, or did they only mirror her own quivers?

Instead of tugging away again, she slid her hand down over the iron mound of his pectoral, gasping at what she uncovered.

His nostrils flared, as did a spark of something wild and dangerous in his eyes, but he sat unnaturally still as she stared for what seemed like hours at her discovery.

She’d not noticed it until now, even when he’d stood naked before her. She’d been so focused onnotlooking at him, that she’d missed the very confirmation she’d been waiting for all along.

There. On his chest. Protected by a fierce tiger above, and a serpentine dragon beneath, was inked the ruby silhouette of small, perfect lips.

Herlips.

The lips she’d used twenty years ago to kiss the nightmare of darkness away from his heart.

She’d once again stopped breathing as she gaped.

I knew it, she thought, both humbled and elated at once. He’d lied to her, but her discovery of the truth wasn’t at all unpleasant. Nor was she angry.

I knew Ash was alive. That he loved me.

Here was the proof.

She quirked her eyebrow at him.

His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. The air darkened with a threat. Then a warning. Followed by a promise.

Everything spoken and unspoken hung suspended between them, and for the first time since she could remember, Lorelai didn’t question her place. She was meant to be here. Now. In this bed, with this man.

“Go,” he forced through a labored breath. “If you don’t leave, Lorelai, I’ll forget—”

Lorelai lunged before she could change her mind, driving her body against his and stopping his words with a desperate, artless kiss. He said he’d not take her, but this time, she’d come to him.

He’d crossed oceans, and she’d only crossed a hallway. But it seemed as though some greater divide had been forged in doing so.

This time,she’dcome forhim.

Though, if she’d thought to be the one to do the taking, she immediately learned her folly.

With a powerful, effortless grace, he enfolded her in his arms and rolled them until he’d pinned her beneath the animal heat of his body.

Only when he seemed to have secured her, did he soften the kiss from desperate to reverent. His mouth didn’t just take hers, he worshiped it. Every bit of him was so muchharder than her. So much bigger, stronger, but for his lips, which were unexpectedly soft.