“I’ve trusted you this far and you still haven’t told me everything, Elijah. I’m waiting for that. I know you will because you gave me your word. So I’ve given you my trust on sheer faith. I’m not taking that away.” She had committed to him. She had chosen him even knowing she didn’t want his life. Even knowing he was outside the law. She’d still chosen him, and he was right, she had to trust him.

“Consider it learned,” she whispered.

He took her mouth. Hard. Wet. Long. Owning her. Possessing her. Then his mouth gentled and he was loving her—tender—sweet. Giving her something indescribable that tore at her heart and sent tremors through her body. He lifted his head slowly, his eyes on her, checking. Making certain she was all right.

“Hurry, Elijah,” she whispered, and turned away to head back to the bedroom.

She went by way of the atrium. The house was a labyrinth of rooms. She knew why. She knew the house was built for leopards to escape. She knew Elijah’s family, one by one, had been murdered or died a violent, bloody death. This place was designed to allow him to get out when attacked. To get his mate and his children out safely. She was determined to learn every route, so she could do the same.

Her body felt sensitive, breasts achy and swollen, nipples hard, pushing against her camisole. The burn that smoldered so deliciously was hot. Not so comfortable. More delicious, but much more demanding. She felt her pulse pounding between her legs with every step she took.

She loved him. Loved him. She didn’t know how it happened or even why. She wasn’t in love with the fantasy man she’d dreamt of for so many years. She loved Elijah with his dirty mouth and his sinful hands and his dangerous edge and unbelievable temper. She loved him with every cell in her body. With her heart and soul. She wanted to be his woman. The woman he spent every waking minute loving. Wanting. Needing.

She washed carefully, and every pass of the hot, wet cloth sent shivers through her. She changed. She couldn’t help it. She chose another skirt, this one long, with more flow, falling from her hips rather than her waist, hugging her bottom, but swinging out in folds like a handkerchief around her legs to her ankles.