"It was an accident," she said, glancing up the stairs as if contemplating trying to escape up them.
"I've come to realize you're more accident-prone than most, wife. And Kira," I gestured my head behind her, "if I have a mind to catch you, you won't even make it halfway up that staircase."
Her eyes widened and determination filled her expression. She faked a right toward the kitchen, and then made a sudden lunge left toward the living room instead. I went after her, the primitive male instinct to hunt a fleeing female exciting all my senses and causing arousal to surge through my body.
Kira ran toward the couch, and I was right behind her as she tried to climb over it. I pulled her down as she shrieked and fought me. "Charlotte!" Kira screamed. "Walter!"
I managed to get her under me and pin her arms, and when I did, looking in her face triumphantly, she flinched and turned her head as if expecting a blow. I froze, immediately letting go of her.
"Did you think I was going to hit you?" I asked, incredulously.
She blinked up at me with those gorgeous eyes, suddenly looking uncertain and very young. Tenderness filled my chest, replacing any anger I'd felt. "I'd never hit you."
She nodded at me. "I . . . I know," she said, but the tone of her voice told me she wasn't completely sure.
"Gray? Kira?" I heard Charlotte from behind me, but I didn't look up, and Kira didn't turn her head. I didn't move off her.
"We're fine, Charlotte," I said emphatically.
"I heard—"
"We're fine, Charlotte," I repeated. "Give us a minute, please."
She hesitated for a moment, and then I heard her footsteps moving away.
Kira was still watching me with large, wary eyes. Did she think because I'd been arrested for hitting someone, that I'd strike her? No, she had only ever acted fearlessly with me, never backing down until we were in this particular position.
"Someone hit you before," I guessed.
Her gaze held contact with mine. "Yes," she whispered. I closed my eyes, exhaling a long breath. When I opened my eyes, she was still looking at me, her stare fixed on the cut on my jaw, the one I'd completely forgotten about. In truth, it was barely a flesh wound. That dumb ribbon must have hit me just right—what were the odds of being sliced by a ribbon?
"I hurt you," she said, her voice full of regret. My body was pressed into hers, her light flowery scent surrounding me, her lips parted just slightly. Her eyes were full of tender concern and so beautiful my heart ached.
I couldn't stop myself. I lowered my lips to hers. She startled slightly, and after a tense moment where we stared into each other's open eyes, she relaxed back into the couch and brought her arms up and around my neck, her lids fluttering closed.
I groaned and used my tongue to trace the full contours of her lips before slipping inside the warm recesses of her mouth. She tasted like sweetness and fire, her tongue reaching out to tangle with mine as I brought my hand under her body and stroked the curve of her spine. She arched up into me. The kiss took on a feverish intensity as our tongues played, mine dipping into her mouth in a penetrate-and-withdrawal pattern as old as time. Lust, as sharp and sudden as lightning, arced between us. She felt so right under me. I felt my control slipping, and the shock of that feeling was as surprising as it was worrisome. I broke my lips from hers and stared into her face—her cheeks flushed, her lips wet and red from my kiss, her eyes half lidded. Stunning. Picking up a lock of mahogany silk and feeling it in my fingers, I murmured gently, "This hair . . ." She blinked up at me, her expression taking on a cautious confusion. She wriggled and I hissed in a gasp of air as she moved against my hard, aching groin. She slipped out from under me and I sat up abruptly. She stood looking down at me, and I reached out to her with my hand, but she backed up instead, looking at me almost accusingly. I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what—but before I could, she turned, and again, she ran.
CHAPTER TEN
Kira