Isabelle watched him limp to the doorway and then through it. She gripped the edge of the table, forcing herself to not run after him and tell him that if there was any man in the world she would settle in one place for, it was him. Despite his stupid protectiveness. Despite his control issues.

She rose to follow him slowly, forcing herself not to run after him and tell him about Boyle and the position the demon had put her in: her life for another witch’s. Isabelle wanted—needed—his support and advice. But she couldn’t do that, no matter how much she wanted it. Thomas would try and protect her from Boyle at all costs, and the demon had already told her he’d kill Thomas if he got in his way. Isabelle couldn’t let him risk his life, because she knew she was falling in love with him.

This time she would be the one to protect him.

THOMAS AWOKE TO FINGERS RUFFLING THROUGH HIS hair and the sweet scent and warmth of a woman’s breath on his cheek. His eyelids lifted a moment to see that Isabelle had climbed into bed with him.

She had no intention of staying. He wanted to kick himself for the moment he’d allowed himself to hope.

She’d shown up at his door only moments after he’d arrived home saying she wanted to sleep in the guest room. It was lucky she’d come on her own. Physically, he hadn’t felt like dragging her over, even though he would have. Thomas had opened the door and let her in, but hadn’t said much because he was still hurt and pissed off that she’d made it pretty clear she was just using him for sex.

He could give her sex, but Thomas suspected she wanted—needed—the other things he had to give, too.

She was just too afraid to take them.

He moved, wrapping his arms around her and rolling to the side. The sheets tangled between him and her long, slim—nude—body as he pulled her underneath him. Isabelle was only a temporary addition to his life, a fleeting whisper, transitory, and impossible to keep.

But damned if he wasn’t going to try and hold on to her anyway.

Thomas slid his good knee between her thighs and winced when the other knee protested the weight he placed on it.

Her cool hand slid up his shoulder. “Doctor told me you twisted your knee. I promise I’ll be gentle with you.” She bit her lower lip. “I needed to touch you tonight.”

He forcibly spread her thighs and pressed the length of his cock against her heat, making her gasp. The only thing that separated them was the sheet and he’d soon make that disappear. “Gentle is the last thing I want from you.”