Page 2 of Stolen Hearts

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He reached out, gently turning her to face him. “I’m not trying to make it harder. I just…I don’t want to let you go.”

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “Then don’t.”

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I have to.”

She nodded, a single tear escaping down her cheek. “I know.”

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Her fingers bit into his chest, clinging to him like he was the last steady thing in her world. His hands slid up her back, pressing her against him. It would be so easy to say the words he kept locked behind his teeth, to confess that she wasn’t just some passing fling, that these three days had unraveled him in ways he couldn’t have predicted.

But he didn’t.

Because saying it would make it real, and making it real would make it impossible to walk away. And Denver Malone knew how to walk away. It was part of the job, part of survival.

But damn, it felt like he was leaving half his soul behind.

Outside, the city hummed with life, indifferent to their shared heartbreak. Inside, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them, suspended in time, teetering on the edge of something that could have been everything.

“You should probably leave,” she whispered again, voice breaking.

Denver pressed his forehead to hers, inhaling the scent of her—jasmine and something uniquely Rhae. “I know.”

He lingered, his lips grazing hers, like a memory he was desperate to burn into his soul.

Finally, he stepped back, letting her slip from his grasp, watching as she retreated to the window once more, arms wrapped around herself like she could hold in all the things she wasn’t saying.

Fuck.

Denver reached for her. With a gasp that sounded like a woman who’d been holding her breath, Rhae spun toward him, throwing herself into his arms.

He lifted her automatically and whirled for the bed. In five steps, they fell to the mattress with her sleek body pressed underneath him. Her legs parted, the robe falling away to give him total access. In one swift thrust, his stiff cock tunneled inside her.

Rhae cried out, fingertips digging into his shoulders, anchoring herself to him as their mouths collided with a desperation neither could ever admit to.

It was over fast—too fast. They lay entwined for long minutes, neither one of them speaking. What was there to say? If he was smart, this would be the last time he saw her.

The thought of her moving on with her life—without him—sent a sharp knife straight to his chest. He stared at the ceiling, fighting emotions he shouldn’t, couldn’t have.

There’s no future in it.

Within minutes, he noticed how her body went lax with sleep and her breathing turned slow and rhythmic.

Denver slipped out of bed and found his jeans, pulling them on methodically, like each move was a nail sealing up his chest. He grabbed his shirt from the chair, drawing it over his shoulders before reaching for his boots.

His hands hesitated on the laces.

He could stay. He could forget everything else. It was just one choice. One decision.

But then he tied the knot, standing and straightening as if it took every ounce of strength he had left.

He looked at her one last time. Asleep on the bed in a pool of early morning sunlight. If this was the last he ever saw of Rhae, it was a damn good vision to etch into his memory.

He swallowed hard.

One last look. One final breath.

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