Page 12 of The Phoenix Inheritance

I mask my surprise at that information as I try to decipher the logic behind Dane’s strange request. I see myself through his eyes. A woman in a faraway place, no strings attached.

Surely the prospect of kissing me is more appealing than practicing with a pillow, as I’ve already tried a few times – and less complicated than meddling with one of his admirers back home. I consider.

Not too shabby a deal.

After all, I’m the one who sighs wistfully when I hear about love and courtship those nights when Hunter meetings span a little too long. However due to my condition, I can’t offer what other women can. Marriage, a family, long years growing old together.

This is my opportunity to get a taste of romance – and with the most striking man I ever saw, no less.

I extend my hand. “Sounds like a deal.”

Dane only stares at my outstretched fingers, brows knitted together in confusion. “Deal?”

I grin encouragingly. “I’m willing to be your practice partner, because you’ll be mine as well.” When he continues to look nonplussed, I patiently explain: “I’ve never kissed anyone either. And from the fuss everyone makes about it, it’s one of those things that makes a human life worth living, right?”

Something about my words makes Dane frown. But then, I’m beginning to learn there’s very little that doesn’t make Dane frown.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

“I want to take my chance before it’s too late.”

His scowl deepens. “Surely you’ll have another chance. You have plenty of years ahead of you to –“

I don’t want to hear the rest of his words, because they won’t be true. So I lunge forward and plaster my lips against his, waiting for that magical spark I’ve heard so much about.

The spark doesn’t come.

Kissing Dane is like kissing the rock on which we sit. He’s hard and unmoving. Is he breathing? Even my pillow is a more sensual partner.

I sigh and nudge away, refusing to let my wave of disappointment crush me. You can check that off the list, I tell myself with a slight nod. At least now I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.

But before I can escape, the statue before me comes to life. One of Dane’s strong hands slips underneath my damp hair. I suck in my breath. It’s a strangely intimate touch, with his long fingers fanning almost possessively over my hidden nape.

“You can’t do that to a man and then just run away.”

I don’t see why not, but the gravelly pitch of his voice holds my attention. Now we’re so close I can feel his heart pumping next to mine. Blood rushes to my cheeks. The way his pale eyes devour my lips makes them tingle as if I’ve just swallowed a dozen hot peppers. But then his gaze is replaced with his mouth – and that’s when I feel that spark.

Or more like a full-blown explosion. His skin brushes against mine so lightly it’s nothing short of torture. His hot breath blows over me like a gentle storm. And then, as if he’s suddenly aware of the fire himself, he kisses me in earnest.

No more airy touches, now he wages a battle against my lips as ferocious as the wars that ravaged this country. A surge of liquid desire courses through me. I hear a whimper. Did I just make that sound? I squeeze my mouth shut so that no such sound can escape again, but a feral groan rumbles in Dane’s throat.

He nibbles at my lip impatiently, and when I fail to accommodate him fast enough, he forces his way through. Dane claims me with a fierceness I can’t resist. It’s too sweet an attack.

His tongue wraps around mine, sweeps me away in his passion. I let myself fall into his embrace, so hard and overwhelming – yet I can feel him quiver everywhere around me. The hard planes of his muscles twitch, the fingers tangled in my wet strands dig into the back of my head bitingly.

He’s enjoying this too, I realize with an internal summersault. So I allow myself a few more liberties as well. I tentatively weave my hand into his bronze hair. Unlike the very first time I touched him after his fall from the skies, he doesn’t flinch away. Instead he seems to melt into my very palms.

As he lights a fire in my lips, I commit to memory every pore I can reach with the fingers that aren’t busy clutching my pair of shoes. The proud bridge of his nose, the pulse in his neck, the breadth of his shoulders. The granite perfection of his chest, so unlike mine.

My hand drops low, venturing into uncharted territories. I barely graze a pressing hardness when Dane’s ragged breath suddenly halts. I almost ask if I somehow caused him pain, but before I can wonder any longer, I’m flat on my back in the blink of an eye.

Now Dane hovers above me, keeping me prisoner beneath him with two massive arms, planted as firmly at either side of me as a pair of trees.

Heat runs through me at the pure glory of him, but it doesn’t go without a zip of fear. Because as handsome as he looks, I’ve also never seen a man more imposing. Why didn’t I have a single concern for my own safety when I first saw all that brawn? Now that I’m directly subjected to that strength, now that I’m held captive by muscles I couldn’t beat with a spade, I eye his build with a fair dose of worry.

Yet when he descends upon me, not one of my fears come true. I’m not crushed by his weight. Instead he hovers a few inches above me with a strength I couldn’t hold more than a few seconds. I’m not bruised by hands more used to wielding a sword. Dane is all restrained power, barely more tangible than a butterfly as his hands travel over my body.

Along my thighs, my hips, the hollow of my waist… My lids drop when his thumb brushes the underside of my breast. He ventures into the crook of my neck. The languid play of his lips there is heavenly. I feel myself drifting. Gone are the rocky plains of the Solenz – I’m in a world of feather-soft touches and velvety kisses, warmed by the slow burn Dane builds within me.

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