“Aye.”
She regarded him silently for a moment.
“Maybe you should go to bed,” she suggested, her voice still soft.
“I don’t want to go to bed. I want to talk and we’re f**king well going to talk.”
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
“No, you’ll make excuses in the morning. You’ll avoid me or ignore me and that’ll piss me off. Then we’ll have words which will piss me off more. So, we’re no’ talking in the f**king morning. We’re talking now.”
“I think –” Elle began as she started to move.
He had no idea where she was going just that it was away from him.
And he was not having that.
He caught her upper arm in a firm grip, pulled her in front of him and shuffled her back, his intent to get her attention and negate any attempt at retreat.
He succeeded when her back hit the wall.
He closed in, pinning her.
She made a noise that he couldn’t decipher, fear or anger, he had no idea.
He also didn’t care.
Because it was then he smelled her.
Her scent was extraordinary and it was strong. He’d never smelled anything like it. It wasn’t her perfume which was enticing but it was also delicate.
This was something else.
Something he had to have more of.
Immediately.
His resolve to talk flew from his mind as he dipped his face to her neck, running his nose along its length, breathing in deeply.
God, she smelled good.
Elle went solid.
“Prentice?” Her voice was hesitant.
Nose behind her ear, he asked, “What is that?”
Her body jerked and she enquired, “What’s what?”
“That f**king smell.”
“I… um… what?” she stammered, her hands coming to rest on his waist, putting gentle pressure there to move him away.
He resisted.
She gave up.
His head came up and he stared at her face in the moonlight.