I am not unfamiliar with my own appearance. But this man to say it…it means something more.
He frowns at me. “You gotta know you’re gorgeous, Anjalee.”
“But you saidstunningly.” I cannot help the way I look at him. I know he sees that I am moved. “Those who have told me I am beautiful in the past…they were required to. They know who my father is. They know he can change their lives, if they curry my favor.”
“I don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about any of that shit, darlin’,” he murmurs. “I don’t want a goddamn thing from your father or anyone. Shit, I don’t want anything fromyou.” He pauses. “Except maybe one thing.”
I swallow hard—he is close, his eyes large from proximity, his heat close, his body blocking out everything, his presence all-consuming. His hand cups my jaw, palm to cheek, fingers on my ear and in my hair. “What one thing, Kane?”
“This.” He moves slowly; there is plenty of time for me to react, to do something, to stop him, but I do not. Cannot.
His lips touch mine, and my breath freezes. My heart works up into a frenzy in my chest—I shake from scalp to toes.
He iskissingme.
Just a touch.
I gasp.
He pulls away, only a little. “Oughta stop me, honey.”
I shake my head. Words are slow in forming. “I…cannot.”
“Fuck.” His lips touch mine again, soft, slow, gentle.
My soul thrills, rises. I find myself lifting up onto my toes—as if my body knows what to do when all of the rest of me is clueless. When I lift up, our mouths touch more closely, and I feel something wet and warm slide across my closed lips. His tongue—histongue. I gasp, and my lips open, and then I feel his tongue slowly sweeping through my mouth…touching mine. The shocking thrill expands into something I cannot contain, fear, excitement…and that secret thrill in my intimate place.
He backs away, halting the kiss, hand dropping. I am left breathless, still on my toes, off-balance.
He covers his mouth with the back of his wrist, and his eyes are dark and wild—the blues and greens and grays have melted and melded and fused into a silvery molten fire. “Fuck, Anjalee.Fuck.You are so goddamn dangerous it ain’t even fuckin’ funny.”
He spins on his boot heel, as if he is angry at me. He stalks to a nearby rack of jeans, grabs the first pair in front, shoves them at me—I have followed him, trotting, confused.
“Kane, I do not understand. What happened? Why are you angry with me?” I take the jeans from him and touch his chest with my other hand. “If I did it wrong, I am sorry.”
He flinches, literally staggering backward as if I have punched him in the nose with the power of a man. “Did it wrong?” He turns away, wiping his face with his palm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—shit, fuck,shit.”
I put my hand on his arm, turn him back to me—he allows this. His eyes are still molten steel, but now they are hard.
“Kane, please. You are frightening me.”
“You ain’t got a single goddamn clue, do you?” He snarls this, still angry.
“About what?” I touch my lips, I cannot help it—they still tingle from his kiss. “The kiss? No, I suppose I do not have any clues about this. But…I liked it.” I lift my chin, meet his eyes. “I am not afraid of you,” I declare, boldly.
He shakes his head again. “Darlin’ you ain’t got a clue.”
“Kane…”
He shoves the hanger at me. “Try ‘em on.”
I look at them. “They are the wrong size. Too large by half.”
He swings a hand at the rack. “Then find the right size.”
I rifle through till I find my size, pull the hanger free. He guides me with rough hands on my shoulders to the nearby changing room, and shoves me in.
“Put ‘em on.”
