AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gazed at her and realized she wasn’t just trying to make him feel better; she actually believed it. But it didn’t make any difference in how he felt about what had happened. Guilt made him say, “I should never have touched you.”
She flinched but held his gaze. “Then? Or now?”
“Both.”
He saw his answer sink in, and only the slight crinkling of her eyes betrayed that he’d hurt her...again. He wanted to take the word back, but it was too late. She stood up quickly and dusted off the back of her pants, then mounted the three steps to the porch and put her hand on the door. He watched her—he couldn’t help himself—wishing with all his heart he hadn’t been the one to hurt her. Not then. And certainly not now. He hadn’t realized just how much or how easily she could be hurt, emotionally as well as physically.
She turned back, and her face was a frozen mask he scarcely recognized as the same woman he’d just kissed. “It won’t happen again,” she said in a flat, toneless voice. She slipped through the door and closed it firmly behind her.
“Damn!” The word released some of his tension, but nowhere near enough. He wanted to hit something. Hard. But not Keira. Never her. Himself.
He looked at the door through which she’d just disappeared, wishing he hadn’t driven her to escape, wishing he could explain... Explain what? he asked himself, uncertain what he thought he could explain. Explain that the minute you kissed her you forgot everything, including why you’re here? That you’ve wanted her since the first time you touched her?
He remembered the way she had responded to his kiss just now, and desire flickered back to life. In his head he heard the soft moan she hadn’t been able to hold back, and his body hardened in a rush again, making his jeans uncomfortably tight. Then he remembered the whimper of pain...and what had caused it in the first place. But he also remembered her placing his hand on her other breast, saying, You can touch me here.
This time his desire didn’t fade. Great, he thought. Now, when it’s too late. Now that she wouldn’t touch you for anything you offered her and would probably scratch your eyes out if you touched her.
He had to explain. He had to find the words...somehow. He headed for the door before he could change his mind. He owed her another apology, and he’d start with that. Not for kissing her—he’d be damned before he’d be sorry for kissing her. But for letting her think he regretted it.
He found her inside, studying the contents of the kitchen cabinet, the nonperishables he kept the cabin stocked with. They hadn’t bothered to bring food with them because he’d told his team the cabin already had enough canned goods to last them several days.
He glanced at Callahan still asleep on the bed. Good, he thought. I don’t need a witness to this. He walked up to Keira, determined she wouldn’t misunderstand this time. He took the can of beef stew out of her hand and placed it on the countertop. “I’m not sorry I kissed you,” he said, softly but firmly.
She didn’t respond, just turned back to the cabinet and brought down another can, green beans this time. He took that can from her, too. “Please, look at me.”
She looked in his general direction, her face that same frozen mask he suddenly realized she hid behind when she was emotionally vulnerable. But her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Okay,” she said. “You’re not sorry. Point taken, message received.” She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to—he read her thoughts. We have a job to do, so let’s move on. Then she said something she’d said to him once before. “Forget about it. I have.”
He was damned if he would. And he knew she was lying.
He moved, trapping her against the countertop, and her eyes flared at him as she tilted her head up, finally meeting his eyes. He’d expected anger, but that wasn’t what he saw. He saw the vulnerability she struggled yet failed to hide...and something else. It was the something else that gave him hope. In a breathless voice she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Kissing you again.” He didn’t give her a chance to escape. This time it wasn’t a kiss of exploration, of discovery, of seduction. It was a kiss designed to apologize, and he put his whole soul into it. All his aching regret for every bruise she wore because of him, all his longing to prove that wasn’t the way he thought of her, joined the pent-up yearning for a woman to care for him as passionately as he would her.
