The realization rushed over him like a violent flash flood, overriding his intellect and taking him against his will.
He hadn't believed it was possible for him—a veteran of life, of death—to have fate step in and show him a new trick. In his thirty-eight years, he'd learned to live without emotional attachments. He'd learned to believe love didn't exist. Then came Addison with her clean soul and faith in the human spirit. She still believed in right and wrong, good and evil. She'd proven to him that goodness was very much alive, more powerful and real than anything he'd ever known. He'd thought he was immune to her. He'd thought he was above it all. God, what an arrogant fool he'd been.
He watched her crest, then closed his eyes against the emotions churning inside him. He'd never felt so swept away, so driven by something as intangible as his heart.
For a moment, the only sound between them was the harsh sound of her labored breathing. He'd needed to see for himself that he could reach into her, affect her, touch her soul.
When she opened those dark, sweet eyes and smiled, he knew he was forever lost.
"I love you," she whispered on a breath.
The words jolted him, their meaning shaking him to his very core. "Those are dangerous words," he said.
"It's a dangerous world out there, Talbot."
She'd said the words carelessly, but he didn't miss the shadow of hurt. And he realized she'd expected him to respond in kind. The thought sent a ripple of panic slicing through his belly.
"I didn't mean to terrify you," she said.
"You didn't."
"Liar."
"Come here." Reaching for her, he pulled her close. He didn't trust himself to speak. He wasn't sure what he would say if he did. Something stupid, more than likely, that would suck him in even deeper than he already was. He cared for her, but for whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to say the words. He didn't want to dig any deeper into his own soul. Nor did he want to dig any deeper into hers. One of them would be hurt if he did.
"Nothing this good lasts forever," he murmured.
She clucked her tongue. "Such a cynic."
How could he tell her he loved her when he wasn't even sure what the word meant? How could he let her get tangled up with him when he was leaving for D.C. in a few weeks? "You deserve better than what I can give you, Addison."
He didn't miss the quick flash of anger. "That sounds like a cop-out. You don't strike me as the kind of man who takes the easy way out."
"I care too much about you to hurt you," he said.
"Then stop talking about what I do or don't deserve and listen to what your heart is trying to tell you."
Closing his eyes against the rush of emotion, he moved over her and kissed her deeply. "It's not that simple," he said after a moment.
"Life's complicated sometimes."
He kissed her again, hungrily, wanting to lose himself in sensation. Lust hummed through his body. He concentrated on that. All he wanted to feel was need. Simple, fundamental, physical need. He wanted sex and release.
To hell with anything more complicated.
Cradling her face between his hands, he pulled back and looked into her eyes. "I want you," he whispered, suddenly afraid she was slipping away. "I want you more than my next breath, more than anything in the world. That's all I can say. That's got to be enough right now."
''That's enough," she murmured. "Make love to me."
He entered her slowly, watching her eyes glaze, her mouth tremble. He shook with sensation as her heat sheathed him. He closed his eyes as emotion exploded inside him. He cursed fate and thanked God in a single, ragged breath.
She moved against him, his name on her lips. Randall ground his teeth together as the pleasure ripped through him. It's just sex, a panicked little voice said in a last-ditch effort to convince him he wasn't in miles over his head.
But his heart was hopelessly lost, entwined with hers in a ritual as old as time. He'd allowed her to reach into him and touch the deepest part of him. She'd asked for his heart.
He'd given her his soul.
Chapter 19