But Merrick only shot her a final glance that chilled her blood.
Not from fear…
No.
From the pain simmering in his black eyes.
Then he spun on his heel, his long strides quickly taking him back into the light of the tavern.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Fuck!
Lessia angrily wiped at a tear fighting its way down her cheek as she stumbled through the island, a throbbing beginning in her head as her body quickly—too quickly—burned through the alcohol she’d ingested.
She hadn’t dared return to the tavern.
After meeting Merrick’s somber eyes, she’d climbed over the wooden fence surrounding the tavern garden and sprinted down the darkening path back to the cabin.
Or, at least, moved as fast as she could with the cups of liquor she’d drunk.
Lessia pressed her hands against her face, stopping at the fork where one path led to the cabin and the other to the beach.
Against her will, the kiss etched itself into her mind, dimming all other thoughts until she could hear only Merrick’s low moan, her own fast breaths, and whatever the sound was called that had left her as she desperately tried to get closer to him.
It had been a good kiss.
Better than good.
It had been amazing.
As in mind-blowing, earth-shattering amazing.
A mortified groan left her, and Lessia dug her palms harder into her eyes, not even caring about the darkness when crushing shame ripped into her.
She’d kissed Merrick!
Worse, she’d liked kissing Merrick.
And perhaps worst of all—he’d kissed her back.
Why?
Why had he kissed her back?
Heat shot up her neck.
Because he pitied her?
Because he couldn’t stand her being rejected again?
She had just told everyone what happened with Loche…
Dropping her hands to her sides, Lessia stormed down the path to the beach instead of returning to the cabin, where soft light peered out of the rounded windows.
“Fuck!” she screamed again as she reached the shoreline, her frustration building when the water seemed to swallow the curse.
Lessia fell to her knees, her hands slamming into the sand.