His kiss was desperate, almost angry—the kiss of a man who’d been fighting himself for too long.
And despite everything, despite all the complications, all the reasons this was a bad idea, I found myself kissing him back.
Leo’s hands tightened on my waist, pulling me closer as if afraid I might disappear. The scent of sandalwood enveloped me, intoxicating and warm. My fingers tangled in his hair, my body responding to his touch with an intensity that surprised even me.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Leo’s forehead rested against mine, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.
“That wasn’t a rejection,” he murmured, his voice rough.
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me. “No, it wasn’t.”
His eyes opened, those grayish-brown depths studying me with an intensity that made my heart skip. “Are you sure about this, Hazel? There’s no going back.”
