She left the church and made her way silently through the darkness, Flynn at her side, his head down against the chill. He ushered her wordlessly into the studio, setting the candle on the mantel and bending to add more coal to the glowing embers.

He held his hands out to the warmth, and Charlotte found herself riveted by the sight of his long fingers silhouetted against the glow. Beautiful, long capable fingers that had just held hers. Fingers she had already felt on her skin. Fingers that she desperately longed to feel on her body again. Everywhere.

“Flynn.” She spoke his name into the silence, and it hovered somewhere on the verge of a question, addressing everything that had not been said since the moment he had kissed her. Addressing everything that still needed to be said.

“It’s late. You must be exhausted. Perhaps you should rest,” he said stiffly, straightening though he continued to gaze down at the fire.

“Rest,” she repeated.

“Yes.” He sounded strained and Charlotte recognized the choice he was offering her.

The gallant bastard.

“Is that what you want, Flynn? Me to retreat into my room and close that door on you? On us?”

He put a hand out on the mantel, as if anchoring himself to something. “Charlotte.”

“Tell me what you want from me.” She would give him no quarter. “Tell me what you wanted when you had your hands on my skin and your mouth on mine.”

He looked up at her then, his eyes glittering in the low light. “Too much.”

Charlotte fought for a breath. “Then take it. Because you were right. We are not done.”

He closed the distance between them, his steps predatory. He caught her chin in his fingers and tipped her head up, his eyes fierce and feverish and wildly possessive. A new wave of arousal ripped through her and settled low and hard in her belly. All of that hunger was for her and only her. It made her feel powerful and reckless all at once.

“I need you to be very sure about this,” he rasped. “Because if I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. I don’t think you understand just how badly I want you.”

She could feel the anticipation wavering in the space between them, thick and electric. “Don’t tell me,” she whispered. “Show me.”

“Charlotte.” Her name sounded strangled, and it was all he said before his mouth came down on hers. He slid a hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, just made love to her mouth with his, and it was indecent and incredible and intoxicating.