Yet something was missing—an absence of the quiet warmth that always clung to her.
The woman's grip on the duvet tightened until her knuckles paled. Then her fingers loosened, sliding around him, arms curling at his waist.
"I won't leave. I'm always here for you," she murmured with a pleased smile.
Zane pulled back, studying her face. He cupped her cheek gently and leaned in to claim her lips—to quiet the starving desire he had buried for so long.
Her eyes fluttered shut, expectant. Her hands moved quickly, brushing against the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a desperate eagerness.
Another hand slid along his thigh, headed toward his belt.
But the touch—there was no yearning for connection. Only lust. It twisted his stomach with a sharp, rising irritation.
A prickling sensation swept through his body. His chest tightened, suffocating him, his heartbeat freezing painfully in place.
