He snarled, cursed, furious with himself, not only for the act that had demonstrated his need for her, but with her for not being exactly where he expected her to be.

By the goddess, he could fix that, couldn’t he?

*  *  *

Rowan smiled as she stepped out of the trees. She could hardly wait to tell Liam she’d met his father. She imagined they would settle down in the kitchen, where he would tell her stories about his family. He had such a marvelous way of telling stories. She could listen to that musical rise and fall of his voice for hours.

And now that she’d met his father, there might be a way to ask him if she could meet other members of his family. He’d mentioned cousins from time to time, so …

She stopped, staggered by the sudden realization. Belinda. For heaven’s sake, he’d told her that first day that he and Belinda were related. Didn’t that mean Belinda was …

“Oh!” With a laugh, Rowan turned in a circle. “Life is just astonishing.”

As she said it, as her laughter rose up, the air shook. The pad fell out of her hands for the second time that day as she raised her hands to her throat. Earthquake? she thought with a dim, dizzy panic.

She felt herself spin, the wind gallop. Light, bright and blinding, flashed in front of her eyes. She tried to call out for Liam, but the words stuck in her throat.

Then she was crushed against him, lights still whirling, wind still rushing, as his mouth ravaged hers.

She couldn’t get her breath, couldn’t find a single coherent thought. Her heart boomed in her chest, in her head, as she struggled for both. Suddenly her feet were dangling in the air as he yanked her off them with a strength that was both casual and terrifying.

His mouth was brutal on hers, hard and greedy, as it swallowed her gasps. He was in her mind as well, tangled in her thoughts, ruthlessly seducing it as he ruthlessly seduced her body. Unable to separate the two, she began to shake.

“Liam, wait—”

“Take what I give you.” He dragged her head back by the hair so that she had one terrifying glimpse of the fire in his eyes. “Want what I am.”

He savaged her throat, spurred on by each helpless whimper. And with his mind drove her violently to peak. When she cried out, he fell with her onto the bed. Her hair tumbled free as he liked it best, spread out around her head like a gleaming lake. Her eyes were wide, the passion that rode with the fear turning them midnight dark.

“Give me what I need.”

When her mind whispered, yes, he took it.