to win her. “You are so beautiful…and I think I adore you.” He would have to settle for that. He prayed the way he said it was enough. He prayed it might mean something to her.
She smiled. Just the barest twinge to those full lips he wanted so very much. And it seemed it meant just enough. Because then she closed the distance between them.
She kissed him back.
9
I’ve lost my mind.
She couldn’t help it. The way he had been kissing her—the sound of his voice—something in it felt different. Something in it felt like more than lust. It felt real.
No. It couldn’t be. He was playing her, she was certain. He was a notorious playboy. He knew how to charm a girl to get whatever he wanted. He was just saying the right things the right way to make her think he meant it.
But he has his hypnotism. He’s never had to win a girl before. Maybe…maybe this is real.
No. She was getting ahead of herself. But right now, like this, with him? She couldn’t be bothered to worry enough about her own sanity to care. Or to stop. He tasted like smoke and herbs, and something rich like wine. Kissing him felt like the promise of good memories and laughter.
And oh, she had laughed. She laughed harder goofing off with him in the pool than she had in a long, long time. She had wanted to spend time with him. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she wanted anything at all.
She had wanted to touch his face. To try to commit his features to memory. They were sharp. He was smooth-shaven with just a bit of stubble. He reminded her of the busts of the emperors they kept in the vaults of the temple.
It was rare she found the need to touch someone’s face. She had only done it a few times with very close friends, like Octavia, or when she was a child. But she had wanted to know him—to know what it felt like when he smiled.
When she had found herself needing to kiss him, she didn’t have the strength to stop herself. She wasn’t used to having to resist her desires. It wasn’t until after she had started it that she even realized what she had done.
She didn’t regret it.
The feeling of him, of his bare skin beneath her hands, of the strength of his muscles—and the inarguable presence of his considerable desire against her stomach—it was too much. He was so warm, much warmer than a normal person should be. But he was the South Wind, and he was the embodiment of fire.
And he tasted like it. And she couldn’t get enough. Combined with the cool water, it was a heady mix.
They were moving then, and she felt him bump into the edge of the pool. He sat on a stone surface, and she found herself in his lap, straddling him. It freed his hands to wander over her.
When his fingers delved beneath the band of the lower half of her bathing suit, she pulled back and slapped him. It sounded louder than it was thanks to the dampness of her hand.
His fingers fisted in her hair suddenly and yanked her head toward him. He growled, a low and dangerous sound. She froze for a moment, wondering if he was going to hurt her and if she had gone too far.
“Six.” He kissed her. Roughly. If she’d made him mad, it took an odd direction. He kissed her with a sudden ferocity that left her too stunned to react. When he broke the kiss, she was gasping for air. He pulled her closer, dipping his head down to her ear. Her chin was nearly on his shoulder. “Do you think I hate it when you slap me?” His other hand was at her waist and pulled her hips close to his, pressing the impressive proof of his need against her.
Very impressive proof.
She gasped again and couldn’t form words.
There was barely any fabric between them. She could feel him there, and it made her head spin.
“Do you?” he growled into her ear.
“I hadn’t much—much thought about it—” she whispered, feeling dizzy. Everything was going too fast.
“I want you to fight back. I love it. Hit me as much as you want. But I’m keeping score for a reason. I will get my payback, mark my words.” His voice was a dusky purr. She shivered despite the summer sun and the fact