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“That’s all of the truth that matters,” Quinn said.
“So there is more.” His eyes clouded, and his jaw went tight. “You say you love me, but you shut me out of what has made you the amazing woman you are.”
Did he sound…hurt? Her heart twisted. “I do love you. I’m afraid that you won’t love me.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.” He released her hands and shifted away from her.
The few inches of space between them felt like a bottomless chasm. “I know too much about you,” she cried. “You sacrificed yourself to protect Raul, not just because he was the cousin you love, but because he is the prince of your country. You live and breathe duty and honor.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I am the opposite.”
“You say that Mikel gave you a second chance. Yet you will not give yourself one.” His voice was hard with anger. “The past will crush you with its terrible weight if you allow it to. I’ve learned that you have to face it…and share the burden with those who would help you.”
“My past is very different from yours. I thought I could outrun it, but it followed me here.”
“You’ve served your sentence. Put it behind you.” He took her hands again. “I will win your trust, cariño mío. So you will tell me all the truth.”
If the truth affected only her, she would spill her guts to this man who still wanted her despite her confession. But it was so much more complicated.
She stared at him, searching his face for any hint of contempt or disgust, but finding none. How could he not care about her criminal record? Was he so insulated from reality by his rank that he didn’t understand how bad it was? Or was he so besotted with his exotic American lover that he didn’t care?
Relief and a sense of reprieve allowed her lungs to expand fully again. She could be with Gabriel a little longer. She would store every moment in a treasure chest of memory.
She twisted and set one knee on the couch so she could frame his face with her hands. “For now, we will pretend that it’s possible to forget my past. Because I can’t bear to give you up yet.”
She felt the muscles of his face move under her palms as he frowned. “Do not talk of giving up. I love you too much.”
His kiss was both tender and claiming, his lips slanting against hers in possession while his hands roamed over her back to press her closer.
Desire bloomed between her legs and unfurled into every part of her body.
“Ohhh, why won’t you listen to me?” she breathed against his neck before she gave him a light nip.
“Because you make no sense.” He held her shoulders with both hands. “I want to make love to you, with emphasis on the ‘love,’ cariño mío.”
He made the words a seduction and a promise.
“Upstairs.” She took one of his hands and led him up to her bedroom.
Before she reached the bed, he pulled her to a stop. “Tell me that you love me.”
“You know I do. More than is good for either of us.”
“Imposible!” But he seemed satisfied with her answer because he ran his hands down her rib cage until he reached the hem of her T-shirt. Insinuating his fingers underneath it, he pushed the fabric upward until he uncovered her breasts in their black lace bra.
“First, I am going to make love to your right breast,” he said, his voice almost a purr as he wrapped his hands around her torso while keeping her shirt rucked up. He dipped his head to kiss the nipple that his words had already hardened to a peak.
“Yessss!” she hissed as he opened his mouth to flick her with his tongue, the lace adding a delicate friction. When he fastened his lips against her and sucked, she arched and threaded her fingers into the silky strands of his hair to hold him there while waves of electric pleasure ricocheted down between her legs.
When he lifted his mouth away from her, the cool air on the warm, wet lace of her bra made her gasp.
“It would be easier without this.” He tugged at her shirt, so she lifted her arms to let him peel it up over her head and toss it away. Teasing, he trailed his fingertips back down along the tendons of her neck, along her collarbones, and around the scallops of lace before he bent to draw her other nipple into his mouth. As he sucked, he played with her right breast, cupping it, rubbing his palm over the nipple before pinching it lightly.
“And now I need your skin.” He reached around to unhook her bra. She shook it down her arms until it fell to the floor.
He murmured something in Spanish that she couldn’t translate because her brain was fogged with arousal.
Then his mouth was on her bare flesh, and the intensity of the feeling shocked her. Maybe it was because he refused to believe the worst of her.
She cradled his head in her hands and eased it away from her breasts. “Your shirt. Off.”
