How long had they been here, entangled like this. Minutes? Hours? Time lost meaning as he showed her just how tender and how sexy he could be. The man was building a fire inside her, and he was taking his time with it, letting her savor the feeling of his affection. Slowly, he backed her against the wall. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he lifted both of her hands over her head and slowed his kiss again. He altered their pace over and over, slower, faster, softer, harder, making her anticipate when he would let his control slip.
Ian’s mouth moved against hers smoothly, as if he’d kissed her a hundred times and knew what she liked already. Another soft noise came from her—this one relaxed and happy—and Ian gave her three soft pecks, nibbled on her bottom lip, then rested his forehead onto hers. His breathing was deep and slow as he closed his eyes and seemed happy to just be. He lowered their intertwined fingers to her sides, but didn’t let go of her hands. She loved this. Loved everything about this moment. Ian wasn’t pushing for more, or kissing and running. He was giving her affection like she’d never experienced before. Her stomach fluttered with how much she liked standing here, pressed between him and the wall as he squeezed her hands. With a smile, she tilted her chin up and kissed him softly, just a small smack to let him know she’d liked that. The corners of his lips lifted, but when he opened his eyes, they weren’t the blue she remembered. They were darker.
“Your eyes,” she whispered, canting her head and blinking hard. Perhaps it was a trick of the lights. His face was in shadow.
Ian squeezed his eyes tightly closed and shook his head. His hands slid from hers, and he brushed her hip with his fingertips as he leaned forward again. Lips so close they tickled her ear, he said, “I like you.”
And then he left her there, legs splayed and locked, leaning heavily against the wall, wishing it wasn’t over yet.
Ian Silver, her own personal stranger fiancé had just given her the most meaningful kiss she’d ever received.
She brushed her fingers over her swollen lips, staring at the open door he’d disappeared through as she whispered, “I like you, too.”
Chapter Nine
Elyse had one snow machine that needed parts to work and a four-wheeler that Ian was hard-pressed to figure out why the engine wouldn’t turn over. He muttered a curse and wiped his hands on the oily rag. Glaring at the damned thing, he went over everything that could possibly be keeping the engine dead. He needed to cut wood, but to get the dry stuff, he needed to cast his net wider. And to do that, he definitely needed the four-wheeler.
A soft, pretty sound perked up his ears. Rubbing the dirty cloth absently over his hands, Ian strode from the barn, but froze when he saw Elyse on her knees in the overgrown garden behind the house. Her jeans were covered in dirt, and her hands worked constantly to pluck weeds from the soft ground, but it was her lips that held him captive, heart drumming against his chest.
Elyse was singing.
He stepped back into the shadows beside the barn and watched her. Listened to her. Her voice was beautiful. Not the beautiful, yeah-she-can-hold-a-tune kind, but Elyse had a voice that rivaled any he’d ever heard on the radio stations. Soft and bluesy, perfect pitch, perfect vibrato, tone as clear as a bell. He couldn’t sing for shit, but Elyse…Elyse’s voice was enchanting. A siren’s voice.
Huffing a surprised breath, Ian leaned against the side of the barn. She’d been freed up to work on the weeds that were choking out her garden while he took care of the animals this morning. Perhaps she sang all the time, but a tiny, selfish part of him hoped she was singing as a response to something he’d done. Because he’d made her happy. Because of that kiss they’d shared in the bathroom this morning. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he hoped to God she was having the same trouble. And listening to her now with that clear-bell voice that drifted this way and that over the breeze as she worked, he was falling even harder for her.
He gripped his shirt, right over his heart that was aching right now for no damned reason at all. Looking at a woman shouldn’t hurt, but when he tried to look away, the ache deepened. Elyse had done something to him he couldn’t explain. From the moment he’d seen her picture, she had seemed important. It had taken months to get to this place, and now, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he was just here to help a woman in need, with every minute he spent with Elyse, she was feeling more and more like his woman.
And then that kiss…
He’d let his control slip, and she’d noticed. She’d pointed out his eyes. The curse of a shifter was the changing color there. It was proof he was just pretending to be human, and she’d drawn his bear from him with just the touch of her lips. With just the taste of her.
For the first time in his life, Ian was scared of someone. A five-and-a-half-foot tall woman with no meat on her bones, who was singing an old love song and plucking weeds from a garden, was more intimidating than any enforcer order Clayton had given him.