was magical. Stolen time, stolen passion and her silly dreams of something more. Then it was over and she was broken again.
Irina wouldn’t let it happen this time. Wouldn’t let her heart overrun her mind. But even as she thought it, she knew that the reason she’d dropped onto the brown leather sofa was because Kellan still made her legs weak. Her heartbeat was racing and there were tingles of expectation, anticipation, at the core of her. It seemed her body didn’t care what her mind had to say. It only wanted.
Irina looked up at him and deliberately hid everything she was feeling.
“Yes, you had to leave. You said as much to me. Seven years ago.” The leather felt cold and that chill was seeping inside her. “You said a lot of things. I remember.”
Kellan nodded. “Yeah, I do, too. I didn’t want to hurt you, Irina.”
Her gaze locked on him and she drew a long, shallow breath. Irina didn’t want to talk about any of it, either. Didn’t want to remember the sound of his voice saying, I can’t be what you want. Or, This isn’t real, Irina. It can’t be. I won’t let it be. So she swallowed hard and hid what she was feeling. “You may not have wanted to, but you did. Still, that’s not why you’re here now, is it?”
“No,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “It’s not.” He braced his feed wide apart, as if preparing for a battle. “Tell me this. How long is Miranda staying in Royal?”
She shrugged as if indifferent. “I don’t really know. She’s made no plans to leave as far as I know.”
“Of course she hasn’t,” he muttered, pushing one hand through his short, neat hair. “Why would she? Has the run of this house, all the money Buck left her and plenty of time to cause more trouble.”
Miranda had always seemed like a nice woman to Irina. In fact, they’d bonded some over a shared past of heartbreak and mistrust. And seeing how Buck’s grown children had treated Miranda had guaranteed that Irina would stand up for her. Since she’d once been an underdog herself, she would always stand up for people she thought were being bullied.
“What exactly, apart from her marrying and divorcing your father,” Irina asked, “do you have against her?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” Love died. Marriages ended. She’d lived it herself and usually there was more than one person to blame for it.
“It is for me,” he countered. “She’s got no rights here as far as I’m concerned.”
Shaking her head, Irina watched him. “Then it’s good it’s not up to you.”
“What the hell, Irina? I don’t understand this,” he admitted. “You were always more loyal to Buck than he deserved, so why would you switch that loyalty to Miranda?”
“And you were always harder on Buck than he deserved. Your father was more than you think he was.”
“I don’t believe it,” he snapped. “And that doesn’t answer the question. Why are you being so damn protective of Miranda of all people?”
Because, Irina thought, she understood Buck’s ex-wife. She knew what it was to be called a gold digger. Knew what it was to love and lose. Knew how hard it was to start over. To rebuild your life. How could Irina not stand by Miranda, when Buck had stood by her?
“It was your father’s fortune to do with as he pleased. Why do you get to say that he can’t leave Miranda everything?” Forcing herself to her feet, Irina locked her traitorous knees so they wouldn’t wobble on her again and tipped her head back to stare up at him. Looking into those lake-blue eyes of his sent tendrils of heat spiraling through her, but Irina did her best to ignore them. “I am being loyal to Buck. To his wishes.”
He slowly shook his head and watched her curiously. “What the hell did he ever do for you?”
Everything, she thought but didn’t say. Buckley Blackwood had played guardian angel to a lot of people and he’d insisted on remaining anonymous. So no one—not even his children—knew what a good man he really had been. But Irina would never forget.
“That’s none of your business, Kellan. You walked away. You don’t get to show up seven years later and demand answers to anything.”
He huffed out a breath and took a step closer. Irina steeled herself because she could smell his cologne. That same wild, spicy scent that seemed to chase her through sleepless nights. His jaw was clenched, his eyes snapping with sparks of frustration, and tension practically radiated from him in thick waves.
She felt that same tension pulsing inside her and she hated it. He’d once had so much power over her. One look from him turned her body into a molten puddle of need. One touch and she was burning. Orgasms with Kellan were more than she would have thought possible.
But strangely, what she missed most was lying in the circle of his arms, darkness all around them, while they talked and laughed together. That closeness, that intimacy, had meant everything to her and had hurt her the most when it was gone.
“I used to admire that hard head of yours,” he said, his voice lower, more intimate.
Now it was more than her knees that were feeling weak. Everything in her yearned. A slow burn started deep inside and bubbled in her bloodstream. This was dangerous. A temptation to go back rather than forward. She’d fought hard to reclaim her life, her heart, her mind after Kellan left. Irina couldn’t let herself be swept into another temporary liaison. And with Kellan, she knew it would be nothing but temporary.
“Kellan…” Warning? Invitation? Even Irina didn’t know for sure.
“You’re still so damn beautiful,” he murmured.
And he was still enticing.
“I think I’m going to kiss you,” he said, one eyebrow quirking. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.
“No,” she whispered.
So he did and the first touch of his lips to hers set that slow burn free and turned it into a wildfire deep within her body. She remembered that fire so well. She welcomed the flames, though she knew she shouldn’t. Irina was helpless to stop herself. Kellan had always had this effect on her and seven years hadn’t changed a thing.
His hands came down onto her shoulders and pulled her toward him. She kept her mouth on his as her arms snaked around his waist. The feel of him pressed against her made her body ache. An aching, molten heat settled in her core and left her hungry for so much more than a kiss.
His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. She tightened her hold on him, and met him stroke for stroke, need for need. The kiss awakened her from a years-long sleep and the awakening was almost painful. Her body hummed with anticipation. Her mind clouded over with too many sensations rising and falling to make sense of any of them. Her breath caught in her chest as she gave herself up to the wonder of the fire even while a small voice within shouted at her to be careful. To step back. To remember that though his touch was magical, he wasn’t staying this time, either.
And that thought was finally enough to penetrate the fog in her brain. To push past what he made her feel long enough that she could remind herself that only pain waited for her if she let this go on.
Irina pulled back, shaking her head as much to convince herself as him. She took a deep breath to steady herself and met his gaze, no matter what it cost her to look into those blue eyes again. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
He scrubbed one hand across his face, then the back of his neck. His breath came hard and fast so she knew he’d been as affected as she had been. Small comfort, she supposed.
Nodding, he said, “Right. Mistake.” His gaze locked on hers, he added, “A good one.”
Her stomach jumped. “No, it