Page 97 of The Unlikely Heir
Callum stops next to me at the stone railing, and his eyes are hesitant, watching.
“Having a good night?” I ask inanely when I can bear the silence no longer.
“Not really,” he replies.
I fold my arms across my chest, my jaw tightening as I force myself to speak again. “You and Calista seem to be getting on well.”
“She’s a lovely person,” he says. He stares out at the perfectly manicured castle grounds, the wildness beyond, before glancing back at me. “There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s not the person I want.”
There’s longing in his gaze, so much longing.
And hope.
It’s the hope that defeats me. It lassos my heart out of my chest.
I can’t resist anymore.
One step. That’s all it takes. One step closer, and as if compelled by some unseen force, he moves towards me too. It’s as though we’re two magnets, pulled together by some impossible, irresistible force.
And finally,finally, I’m kissing Callum again.
Actually, I’m not sure if it can be classified as just kissing.
We’re kissing with an intensity that leaves me breathless, our tongues sliding against each other in a wild, passionate dance.
I bury my hands in his hair, tugging him closer. Like I can meld our bodies together, fuse his soul with mine, if I kiss him hard enough.
All these feelings I have for Callum now have an outlet in this kiss. Every bottled emotion, every unspoken word.
I find both meaning and redemption in Callum’s lips.
Callum gives a small moan, and I chase the sound as we kiss fiercely.
The hard planes of his body press against me. He stumbles back against the stone balustrade of the balcony, parting his legs slightly, and I take the opportunity to move even closer, sliding my thigh between his, desperate for more contact.
My hands move from his hair to his waist under his shirt, feeling the heat and texture of his bare skin. He groans again as I slide my hand up his skin, tracing the contours of his back.
His own hands, strong and secure, clutch my hips tightly against him.
Heat radiates from his body and the scent of his cologne, and something else, something primal, makes my head spin.
A door opening somewhere close by brings me to my senses.
I release Callum, staggering back.
We’re both panting, our shirts untucked. Callum looks totally debauched, lips bee-stung, pupils wide, face flushed.
Oh, holy fuck.
I do the only thing I can.
I walk away.
Back through the ballroom full of swirling bodies and laughter.
