Special Deliveries: Heir To His Legacy. Elizabeth Lane

up the side of his finger, taking a taste of him that wasn’t covered up by anything. A pure shot of Sayid that was as intoxicating as any alcohol.

      She was almost reluctant to release him, which was as strange as anything that had happened to her since she’d agreed to marry him.

      And now they were married. There were cheers from the guests, and blinding flashes from the photographer. Aden was sleeping through it, cradled closely by one of his nannies in the front row.

      And then Sayid took her hand, the gesture distant in its way, formal. The way he did it, his forearm pressed against hers, his fingers curved around her hand, spoke of tradition. And yet, her body didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

      A shot of heat fired through her, a sort of bone-deep longing she could scarcely identify. The truth was, she didn’t want to identify it, because she knew what it was.

      Because she knew that, no matter how much she wanted to pretend she didn’t like the things he’d said to her yesterday, no matter how much she wanted to deny that the taste of his skin had made her heart beat faster, had made her breasts ache, it didn’t change the fact that she did.

      Like any scientific discovery, once something was found, once a hypothesis was introduced, it was impossible to close the lid on it again. It was there. It could never not be there again.

      And she was curious by nature. A requirement of her field. She had to know things, had to know not just how they worked but why, and when, and for how long.

      But this couldn’t be the same. She couldn’t follow this problem to a solution. Because this wasn’t something she could sit and figure out on her whiteboard. There was no logical equation to Sayid. No set pattern of steps to work with to answer the question of what it would be like to have his lips on hers, to feel all that raw male passion directed at her, poured onto her with no restraint, with no denial on either side.

      No. There was no way to figure that out with a whiteboard and a pen.

      And the other option was simply not open for consideration.