towering over her. He’d given her plenty of time to escape, but the last thing she wanted was to leave. He’d caught her in his spell. His eyes alone spun black magic around her, and his voice, low and rough, combined with that flirty smile made him irresistible.
“Want to know a secret?” he asked in a silken whisper.
“Yes,” she whispered back.
Tristan reached up to cup her cheek, stroking a thumb over her cheekbone. Electric tingles shot from her cheek down to her toes, and she leaned in to the touch. How had she gone so many days without this? She was a fool for thinking she could stop herself from wanting him.
“He’s madly in love with Celia, and she with him.”
She could picture the two of them, Carter and Celia, a handsome couple, happy and in love. Like a fairy tale. Funny how everything in Tristan’s world seemed to make her think of that.
“Are they together?”
He shook his head. “No. Her parents would object. Her mother is my father’s younger sister, and unfortunately she’s a bit too much like him when it comes to her daughter’s relationships.”
“But that’s—”
“Ridiculous, medieval even. Yet completely normal for our sort.” He scowled, his eyes darkening, but she sensed it was out of anger at the truth.
He’d be an earl someday. He’d marry someone important in British society, like Lacy had said. Yet the thought of him with another woman made her stomach turn.
“Kat…” Tristan stared at her, his hungry gaze making her a dizzy. “You should leave.”
“Leave?” she echoed, his words stinging like a slap. She had really screwed things up between them.
“Yes.” He leaned down the last few inches until his lips feathered over hers. “Because if you don’t leave, I’ll lose control. I spent two goddamn weeks without you.” The low growl came out of the back of his throat, and it sent shivers down her spine. “Do you know what that’s like? Having the thing you want most ripped away from you? I want you, Kat. Bad enough that losing you nearly killed me.” He paused, his breath uneven as he stared at her. There was a feral glint in his eyes that sparked her body to life. He wouldn’t be gentle, he would be rough, wild, and yet it didn’t frighten her even though she knew it should have.
“I’m not leaving,” she promised him, her body trembling with her need for him.
“You’d better be damned sure darling, because if you stay, I’ll take you to bed and fuck you for the rest of the night. I’ve spent too much time fantasizing about it. I won’t be able to control myself if you stay.”
At this suggestion, all rationality fled. She barely knew him. Yet after spending a night in his arms, sharing their secrets, she did know some hidden part of him. A part she didn’t want to let go. Kat needed to be with him as much as she needed her next breath. She wasn’t going to miss this chance.
She curled her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. “Then take me to bed.”
Tristan wrapped his arms around her body, one hand coming up to grip the back of her neck, the possessive hold sparking everything inside her to life. His taste, like the brandy he’d been drinking, was thick and rich upon her tongue as he kissed her.
Kissing him was addictive.
Can’t get enough. Never enough.
She dug her fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands, urging him to be rougher, to kiss her harder. Everything around them faded away, and she was locked inside her own private universe with Tristan.
He made her feel alive, sexy, like a woman in ways she’d never felt before. As though she was a seductress, a strong, beautiful woman who could have this handsome man in her bed. That silly feeling of being a naive college girl who didn’t know anything about love or life melted away beneath his kiss. Tristan had introduced her to both in a few short weeks. Even when he’d been out of her life, she hadn’t been able to escape thoughts of him. She hadn’t wanted to, either.
Take me , she begged him with her kiss.
With a low animalistic sound, he gripped her by the waist and lifted her up against his body. Carrying her over to a desk in the study, he cleared the surface of its contents with a swipe of his hand. The items hit the floor with a crash, the papers fluttering.
He