Page 36 of Marked By Moonlight
“Mina…” I murmured, trying to muster the strength to say no.
“No more sex?” she whispered.
Heat tore through my cheeks as memories flooded my mind. Not the memory of one particular time, buteverytime, all at once.
“Stop it,” I begged, working up the strength to gently push her away. “Stop teasing.”
She clamped on to my hands. “I’m not teasing. I’m trying to understand why you don’t want me any more.”
“I never said I don’t want you,” I growled. “I do. More than anything. Every day. Every night. Every fucking minute.”
Oops. So much for building a compelling case.
Her mouth fell open, and she searched my eyes. “And yet, you left me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s that Ican’t,” I said over the sandpaper in my throat.
“Because…?” Persistent as hell. That was Mina. One of many reasons I loved her.
Then her expression turned fierce. “Wait. Did Gordon say something? I swear, if he did…”
“No, not Gordon.” I looked around. We were still out in the open. Time to move.
“Then who? What?” she demanded.
“I’ll explain. I swear I will,” I conceded, pulling her onward. “But not here.”
We were nearly at the Bassin de la Villette — the wider basin where barges could turn or moor up — and we needed to move to a more private location. I led her over another bridge to the Quai de la Loire side.
“This again?” she protested.
“Just for the view,” I lied, checking for anyone tailing us. I steered her past a restaurant and several benches until I reached—
“A construction site?” Mina dug in her heels.
I pulled her forward. “Trust me.”
A big ask after everything I’d put her through, but Mina slowly fell into step with me.
My clenched gut slowly relaxed, and I swallowed hard. I’d never trusted — or been trusted by — anyone as much as Mina. I’d never wanted that either. But now…
Trust is a treasure,my dragon whispered.A precious one, like love.
When the beast had become such a poet, I had no idea, but every word rang true. How would I ever let her go?
You don’t, moron,my dragon grumbled, sounding a hell of a lot like Roux.
I tapped the top of the chest-high barrier we reached. “Want a leg up?”
Oh please,her affronted expression said.
She stuck a foot in the lip of a trash can and hoisted herself over the fence. I vaulted it to land beside her, then motioned her onward.
“Nothing as romantic as breaking and entering,” she said dryly, pointing to a sign that listed all the offenses we could be prosecuted for.
Couldbe, but wouldn’t. I’d checked for cameras earlier, and no one was following us.
“You and me, baby,” I tried a lame joke. “Like… Who were they? Bonnie and Clyde?”
