Well Met (Well Met, #1)

by Jen DeLuca

“Besides . . .” He studied the way my hair curled around his fingers as though it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “This would be different.” “Would it?” I tried to maintain my air of nonchalance, but it was harder than usual to take a breath over the pounding of my heart. “Aye.” He leaned in closer, his eyes searching mine. What was it about that eyeliner that made his eyes look bolder, sexier? “How so?” We had long since stopped performing for any kind of audience. My voice was little more than a whisper, and I was fascinated with the shape of his mouth, now a scant few inches from mine. I licked my suddenly dry lips and his breath stuttered for a split second. “Well, love. I’d be fighting for you.” His mouth was so, so close to mine, and his voice was low, almost gravelly, like he was telling me a reluctant secret. “That would be a fight worth winning.”

“That’s not . . . damn it!” He broke off with an inarticulate sound of frustration and he paced away from me a step or two, as though I annoyed him so much that he couldn’t stand to be near me. “I didn’t come here to fight with you!” I had to laugh at that, but it sounded more like a scoff. “Of course you did. What else would you want to do with me?” His eyes flared, and oh, no. I really hadn’t meant to say that. Before I could blink he had stepped closer, impossibly closer, crowding me against the bar. I barely had time to draw a startled breath as he took my face between his hands and his mouth came down on mine. Holy shit, Simon Graham was kissing me.