Finding that balance didn't dampen his desire for her, however. That was something to worry about.

Her tongue rubbed against his, causing pure sexual need to jolt through him, and he forgot all the things he had to worry about.

Jack reached down, found the hem of her nightgown, and dragged it upward slowly. His palm rubbed the smooth skin of her upper thigh, the sweet curve of her hip and waist. He savored every inch of revealed flesh.

Mira moved beneath him, making soft sounds. He inserted his knee between her legs and settled himself in the cradle the apex of her thighs made, grinding his cock against her through his pajama bottoms and the tangled sheets. She felt hot against his shaft through the thin material that separated them. He wondered if she was slick and sweet the way she had been that day in the living room.

When she broke the kiss and arched her back, spreading her thighs for him, Jack nearly had a meltdown. He fisted the blanket with his wounded hand beside her head, using the pain shooting through his burn mark to try and maintain his control. With his other hand, he stroked her waist, loving the sensation of her silky skin.

How easy it would be to slide that hand on her waist down, to stroke sweeter, more responsive parts of her body. How easy it would be to pull away the sheets between them, yank down his pajama bottoms, and bury his aching cock in all that soft, damp heat, to fuck her long and hard until she screamed his name.

He closed his eyes, fighting the powerful urge. It would be a mistake, but it was a mistake they'd both really enjoy. They'd have one night of heaven before they hit hell full-on. Damn it. How could he want this woman so much? Mira was the one woman in the entire world he couldn't have.

Gods, maybe that was why. If so, it was the wrong reason.

Jack forced himself to roll away from her with a guttural groan of frustration. He lay on the mattress beside her and pressed his palms into his eyes. This was torture. Either Thomas had to call soon with permission to move to the Coven, or he would give in to the urge to seduce her.

Mira had gone silent. The only sound in the room was their harsh, labored breathing and the gentle tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the living room.

"Jack," Mira said slowly. "What the hell was that?”

"Mira—”

He reached for her, but she moved, abruptly sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. "I can't take much more of this," she said in a soft voice with her back turned to him.

"Damn it. You're my charge, my job, but I'm attracted to you." He ground his palm into his eye. "I fucking want you.”