by Lisa Kessler:
Gretchen nodded. “Agreed. So how do we get there?”
“We fly.”
Gretchen jumped back from him so fast, he almost flinched.
“No. Way. No way.” She rubbed her hands up her arms while looking out at the water. “You are not suggesting what I think you are.”
She glanced over at him with panic in her eyes. “You’re not seriously thinking you’re going to fly me over there yourself.” She shook her head vehemently. “I’m not going to be flown over the ocean by a giant owl.”
Lukas took a step toward her, trying to get her to meet his gaze. “We don’t have time for anything else, Gretchen. You know I would sooner die than see you hurt. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“But you can’t die. Big difference. I’m all kinds of fragile, remember?” She faced the waves again. “No way. Impossible.”
Lukas closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. Holding her close, he whispered into her hair. “I swear I will not let you fall. I will never let you fall.”
She pushed him away, swiping at a salty tear on her cheek. “If I agree to this, and I’m only committing to if, then we need to get some things straight between us.”
He opened his hands to her, wishing he could calm her fears. “All right.”
“Good.” She started pacing along the waterline. “Tell me your real name.”
“What?”
“Oh come on, Lukas.” She stopped, placing her hand on her hip. “It’s not a tough question. I’ve heard you mutter in Russian under your breath. Smith doesn’t sound like a Russian name to me. If I’m putting my life in your hands, I want to know who exactly I’m trusting.”
Lukas pressed his lips together trying not to smile. “Stanislov. My real name is Lukas Stanislov.” Gods it had been centuries since that name rolled off his tongue. “Now can we get you back to the Jeep?”
“Not yet.” She walked toward him and rose up on her toes as she pulled him to her.
The moment her lips brushed his, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. Her body fit against him like she’d been fashioned for him from the beginning of time.
Before he was ready to let her go, Gretchen pulled back, her eyes searching his.
“Just in case this is it, I didn’t want to leave with any regrets.” She took a deep breath. “I must be insane.” She shook her head. “I swear to whatever gods might be listening, if you drop me I will come back and haunt you until the end of time.”
Lukas smiled. “Deal. Now don’t move.”
First Kiss
“Tell me something.” His voice was soft and low, like the tide. “Why haven’t you ever been married?”
“I had bigger plans than a wedding.” Gretchen shrugged, unsure where the conversation was headed but encouraged that Lukas finally asked about something unrelated to work. “I had
a couple boyfriends in college, and I dated one of my professors after my doctorate, but relationships don’t travel well, and I like to travel.” She hesitated for a second, glancing his way. “My mom left us when I was little, and a few years ago I lost my dad suddenly. He used to love to take me places camping…” She let out a small sigh. “I feel closer to him when I’m out exploring, I guess.”
Lukas smiled at her, and her stupid heart fluttered in her chest. “Your father raised an amazing woman.”
The brief moment of light was quickly extinguished, though, and his features smoothed back into the chiseled mask of a tormented man.
“What about you?” Gretchen asked. “You’re a good-looking, intelligent guy. Have you ever been married?”
“No.” He clenched his fists, and his forearm muscles contracted. Gretchen did her best not to think about his strong hands as he went on. “I would never wish my life on anyone I loved.”
“You need to look in a mirror, Lukas. Your life is not so bad.” Gretchen straightened up, her brow furrowed. “Maybe you’d notice that if you didn’t waste all your energy pushing everyone
away.”
He shook his head, still staring out at the water. “This isn’t what I want.” He stood up and took her hand, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. His gaze demanded hers, and her breath caught in her throat seeing the hunger in his dark green eyes. “There are sins in my past that can never be forgiven, Gretchen. My only solace is to find answers. Anything beyond that…love, passion…it’s all an illusion for me.
He leaned toward her, and Gretchen’s chin tilted up instinctively, aching to taste him, to heal his wounded spirit. The moment his cool lips brushed hers, her pulse jumped. His kiss, like rich chocolate, infused her senses, making her hungry for more.
A moan escaped her throat as his tongue swept along the crease of her lips, enticing her to open her mouth and surrender to the passion she’d been trying to bury. His fingers slid into her hair and awareness bloomed through her body, forming a pool of heat in her belly. Gretchen let her hands explore his chest, living the fantasy she’d harbored for months, when he suddenly took a step back, breaking the contact.
“T’fu! Dammit.” Lukas shook his head, cursing under his breath. A rich undercurrent of a Russian accent flavored his words. It reminded her again that “Smith” was probably not his real last name.
He released her hand. “Forgive me. I usually have more self control.”
Gretchen wished he had a lot less. Her legs felt rubbery, her senses on overload, and he apologized for it? She thought he’d finally given up keeping a “professional” distance, but no, Lukas was like an onion with never-ending layers. Would he ever let her in?
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