Page 30 of The Lightkeeper

Double crap.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out and reached down toward his groin. I had no idea what my hand was going to do when it got there,but I wouldn’t get the chance to figure it out because he intercepted it, grabbing my wrist and swiftly yanking my hand away.

“Kit…” I exhaled tremulously.

I’d already begged for the kiss, was it too much to beg him not to stop now? I wasn’t sure where to draw the line between sounding desperate and asking for what I wanted.

“You need to take some Tylenol,” he ground out. “I need to get your temperature down.” He practically threw my hand from his hold and sprung from the bed like it was a sinking ship, striding to the bathroom.

No.

My whimper was swallowed up by the blankets that I immediately pulled up to my chin. The loss of his heat reminded my brain that my body was still struggling.And now wasn’t the time to be worried about life-changing kisses or interrupted orgasms.

By the time the fresh round of shivers subsided, the mattress dipped again with his weight.

“Kit—”

“I’ve got you.” With one arm, he scooped me up and held me upright—held me to his chest to keep me warm. “Open,” he ordered.

My lips parted and he pushed the pill between them, followed by the end of a water bottle, trickling just enough in my mouth so I could swallow. For a man who seemingly hated… well… people… he sure knew how to take care of them. His sisters were much younger, maybe that was the reason.

But why was he doing it for me?

And how could he pull back and toe this line so easily? Meanwhile, I was ready to rip the rest of these clothes from my fevered body and beg him to have his way with me.

“Kit…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised and then groused, “God only knows what the hell kind of trouble you’d get into if I left now…”

Kit would keep me warm.Keep me safe.No matter how prickly his defense mechanisms were, he was my reluctant white knight.

A smile coasted over my lips, but my eyes were too exhausted to open.I curled deeper into the heat of his body and headed for sleep.

One last thought filtered through the fog. He had towels on hand. A sweatshirt for me to wear. Tylenol in the bathroom. And a bed made to be slept in. Kit Kinkade didn’t just work here as the lighthouse keeper; he lived here.And he’d tried to hide it from me.

Chapter Eight

Kit

A new dawn.A new day.

I stared at the sun creeping up over the horizon from my morning perch at the top of the tower. Whoever said yesterday’s mistakes wouldn’t ruin today’s possibilities was full of shit.Yesterday’s mistakes were lying in my bed. Warm and softand half-naked.And the only possibility for today was trying not to let last night’scatastrophicmistake do any more damage.

I tightened my hold on the rail for a second and then flung it from my grasp, stalking in front of the headlight and heading for the stairs.

Slowly, I descended from the tower, feeling less and less safe with each step, and went to the kitchen. The coffee machine rumbled to life as I shoved my mug underneath it and pulled out my notebook that I’d rolled and shoved in my back pocket.

Conditions: Rough seas. Moderate rain.

Events:

My pen pinned the blank space on the paper. The dot of blackink felt like a black hole of all the things that had happened last night. Finding her with my damn sketches. Realizing she was sick. Fevered. Stripping her in my bathroom.Those tits.I groaned. The second my eyes shut, I saw them. Full and heavy. Her big nipples tight and red from the cold. Fuck, I wanted to feast on them. I wanted to lick and suck and bite until she was making all those damn sounds of surprise because of me.

And she would’ve let me. Hell, she wanted me to. The way she’d asked me to heat her—to fucking paint her with my breath. It was simultaneously the most erotic and most painful moment of my life.

But to kiss her.

Giant fucking mistake. To feel her full lips. To taste the sweet heat of her mouth. To hear the sounds of her moans. And god, to feel the way she wanted me. The way she rubbed herself on my leg like she couldn’t help herself. It was entirely… Aurora. The woman could never help herself from going after what she wanted—even when that thing put her in danger.And no, I wasn’t talking about the wave that caught her and could’ve killed her.

---