‘She’d probably say so. I’d say I’m the responsible one.’
‘Responsible.’ Not the first time that had come up. She turned to him. ‘It’s a balance, isn’t it? Yes, you have to be responsible but you also have to live. And let others live their lives too.’
‘Yes, but you also have to recognise you have responsibilities to others—especially those you care about and who care about you.’
Sienna knew that. It was precisely why she didn’t want someone getting too close. She didn’t want to be stifled. And, ultimately, she didn’t want to let them down.
Rhys stared back at the wall. ‘You also have a duty to help where you can. A duty not to hurt, not to let people down.’ As his last words echoed her thoughts, his gaze landed on the picture of him with his cousin.
Sienna was hit by a horrible thought. ‘Is that why you came after me? After I showed you my scar—you felt a duty?’
‘Not a duty. No.’
‘No? You didn’t feel bound not to leave me feeling bad?’
‘No.’ He turned away from the pictures and faced her. ‘I came after you because I couldn’t not.’
‘So it was a duty.’
His gaze locked with hers. ‘It was desire. It’s still desire.’ He stepped closer, his reserve breaking. ‘I like how I feel when I’m around you.’ He put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers firm. ‘I like how I feel when I touch you.’ He drew closer still, speaking quietly yet every word rang loud. ‘I can’t help but want to touch you.’
He kissed her then, a soft brush that had her parting and wanting. So much for closure.
He looked down at her, his lips a fraction from hers, his eyes burning bright. ‘You have no idea how much I want to make love to you.’
Her gasp was soft and in that very instant his mouth was back on hers, preventing her response, stopping her from voicing her doubt. Sending that doubt packing.
They kissed and kissed and kissed again. A couple of times he pulled away from her lips, kissing down her throat but as quickly he was back to her mouth as if unable to keep away, as if needing to taste the sweet intimacy.
Her resistance melted in the onslaught. As his hands framed her face, cradling her as he kissed her so tenderly, a wave of emotion rose in her and was more than enough to drown her hesitation and hurt. She closed her eyes and absorbed the care he was taking. She was too overwhelmed by sensation to realise he’d been slowly walking them somewhere. Not once breaking the kiss, not giving her the chance to take breath and reclaim sanity, he guided her to his room. With desire-drugged eyes she took in vague details. Just a glimpse of the bed had her knees pathetically weakening.
‘I’m sorry I lied.’ And she knew that he was. And she wanted to forgive him. She did. But he was still holding a part of himself back, and she knew it and she couldn’t quite say it didn’t matter.
‘Rhys…’ She should go back to the hostel. She shouldn’t let this become anything more. But the change was already happening; she could feel it swirling around her.
‘Let me show you.’ He made it so utterly impossible to say no.
He gently set about removing her clothes. She raised her arms so he could slide the tee shirt off her, stepped out of the skirt as it puddled around her feet. Naked for him again, baring everything. Could he do the same for her?
Her senses flared as he stripped. The way he touched her, the way he looked at her, she almost couldn’t bear it. His tenderness was so intense she felt more bowled over than if he’d bodily picked her up and taken her barbarian-style on the bed. Instead he moved with deliberate leisure over the length of her body, proving a level of passion that she could scarcely believe. She’d been treated gingerly before. This was different. This was genuine—it felt like love.
She tasted his groan as he slowly pushed into her. She twisted her fingers in the hair at the back of his head, letting her other hand slide down the strong muscles of his back as gently, so gently, he moved against her. The press of his pelvis, the lock of his lips on hers, so they were joined and it was so deep, so complete. With arms wound tight about each other, nothing could come between them.
The simplest intimacy. So sublime.
Her head was spinning and the tears started falling before she was even aware of them until finally she had to break the kiss, arching her neck so she could gulp in one last breath before her body shuddered and her mind shattered.
‘That’s my girl.’ His smile was tender and tight.
She stared up at him as she rode to the end of the crest, just as he hit his. Unwavering, fearless, their concentration sealed on each other as their bodies were.
Then there was silence. Stillness. She reminded herself to breathe. She’d just seen into his soul. And knew he’d seen hers.
Fear struck almost immediately. Rhys had good armour in place. Could she really believe in what she thought had been evident in his eyes? Some time soon she needed him to talk. She needed words as well as actions.
Right now she just needed to recover.
He lifted up from her, wiped away the tears on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. ‘You OK?’
She nodded. Not wanting to risk a squeaky sob of a reply.
He lay on his side, pulled her hips so she too turned onto her side, her back to him. He snuggled close behind her, his arm heavy across her waist, his hand pressing against her chest. Relief flooded her—so glad she couldn’t see him because she needed the respite. She felt raw and vulnerable, shaking with emotion so exquisite it almost hurt. This had been completely different from the wild abandonment that first night—the moment she’d thought could never be surpassed. She’d been wrong. Nothing could compare to what had just passed between them. And it frightened her more than anything had ever frightened her in her life. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this. Everything had changed.
He could feel her trembling still. He wondered if she could feel the tremors racking him too. He masked it by smoothing his hand down her back, wanting to soothe her. He regulated his breathing in time to the sweep of his hand.
He’d never felt like this. Never felt anything like that. What they had just shared was beyond comprehension. He hadn’t been able to think of a single pyrotechnic thing, no technique, no position that would make all the fireworks in China explode in the one hit. He’d just wanted to worship her. To show her how sorry he was. How much he liked her. To treat her as she should be treated—precious, cherished, loved. And so he had. With gentle hands, soft touches, starting at the bottom, slowly he’d savoured his way up the length of her, sliding his hands up her slender calves and to the rest of her beauty. But it was when he’d finally drawn over her and slowly pushed deep inside her that he’d felt it. The world had stood still. And, for one moment, had been perfect.
How was it that this kept on getting better? That first time, in the cold store of the bar, had been crazy—wild and crazy and he’d never thought he’d feel such intensity again. But he had—time and time again with her. Fast, slow, risky or relaxed, it didn’t matter, it just got better and better. A woman he barely knew. A woman he didn’t know if he could trust. A woman who was vulnerable and whose vulnerability threatened him in his weakest spot. He couldn’t be falling for her. Cardio thoracic surgeon he wasn’t, but he knew enough. The likelihood of her needing more treatment in the future was pretty high, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t sit there and do nothing. Only able to watch while someone he loved…
Oh, God, he was in trouble.
Sienna knew it was the middle of the night but she couldn’t sleep any more. Her brain had clicked on and was whirring at triple overtime rate. She listened to his regular breathing. She needed some space. Carefully she slid out from under his arm, slipped into the shirt