her chest. She could feel every moment of the struggle like fists landing heavy blows against her heart.
Flee.
Fight.
Flee.
Fight.
She was conscious of the silence...measured by the sound of the ticking clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. She was conscious of the dryness of her mouth and the unfamiliar hot moist prickling at the back of her eyes. She was conscious of a tight restriction as the deep well of her buried emotion bubbled up in her throat like a foul sewer.
She. Would. Not. Cry.
Aiesha blinked and quickly slipped her armour back on. She opened and closed her hands, testing him. Watching to see if he so much as flinched. ‘I could really hurt you,’ she said.
‘Undoubtedly.’
She couldn’t make out his expression. Was he testing her? Seeing if she would take up the dare? She brought her hand up but he didn’t move a muscle. His gaze was steady on hers. She placed her hand on the side of his face, her skin catching on the graze of his stubble. Something caught in her chest. A snag. A hitch. Then a letting go...
There was another heartbeat of silence.
He covered her hand with his, holding it within the gentle prison of his fingers. ‘That the best you could do?’ he said.
Aiesha looked at his mouth before flicking her gaze back to his. ‘I don’t want to ruin that pretty-boy face of yours.’
The dark blue of his eyes intensified, holding hers in a lock that made something inside her belly tilt and then spill. ‘You’re scared.’
She sent her tongue out in a quick darting movement to moisten her lips. ‘Let me go, James.’
‘I have a little forfeit to collect first.’
Something dropped off a shelf in her stomach. ‘Forfeit?’
He spread his hands through the mane of her hair, his gaze moving from her eyes to her mouth in a slow and mesmerising fashion. ‘You punched me in the nose. I get to kiss you. Fair’s fair.’
She affected a sneer but was pretty sure it was wide off the mark. ‘Is that meant to be a punishment?’
‘Why don’t we find out?’ he said and, tugging her against him, his mouth came down over hers.
His lips were warm and firm, slow and deliberate. Purposeful. His tongue stroked against her top lip and then her lower lip without deepening the kiss. It sent every one of Aiesha’s nerves into a frenzied clamour of want. She wound her arms around his neck, leaning into him to give more of herself to the kiss. She opened her mouth, inviting him in, teasing him with the flicker of her tongue against his lips.
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