Page 83 of Her Mercenary

“Yes, I will! I’ll go back—”

He lunged forward like lightning. Surprised, I screamed and lurched backward but was held in place by two hands gripping my shoulders.

He yanked me to him, his eyes red with fury. “You will not go back to that house, Samantha.” He shook my shoulders, and for the first time, I felt fear. Scared of him. “Do you understand me? You won’t go back.”

Tears spurted out of me in an explosion of uncontrollable sobs. It was too much. The emotions, him, everything—it was all too much.

Roman stared at me, a wild panic swirling around him. Despite the rage on his face, tears welled in his eyes.

“You won’t go back,” he said again, softly now, his chin trembling, the light from the fire dancing across his face.

“Why do you care?” I whispered.

“Because I don’t want to lose you too!” he bellowed.

I flinched. “No. You don’t care about me, Roman. It’s never been about me.”

He gripped my chin, tipping my head up. “It’s always been about you, Sam. From the moment I saw you—you, you changed everything in an instant.”

“Stop the killing,” I choked out, sobbing. “Stop the death, Roman.”

“Stop making me fucking crazy, Samantha.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. His voice trembled. “Goddammit. I haven’t felt this ... this much ... for anyone in my life. You don’t understand—I didn’t think I could feel anymore, Sam. But I do. I feel for you. You make me fucking feel.”

I pulled his hand from my chin and pressed it against my beating heart. “You make me feel too.”

“I love you, Sam, I fucking love you. And it’s making me crazy.”

Butterflies burst into a frenzy of flight in my stomach. “I love you too.”

He fisted the back of my hair, tears running down his face. “I love you,” he said again, as if he couldn’t say it enough. “I love you. I love you, I—”

His lips crushed onto mine.

I stumbled backward, falling against the cave wall. My knees went weak. My world tilted as I let go. There was no more of me left to fight, to question. At that moment, I was my rawest self.

I let go.

Into his kiss, into him, I simply ... let go.

38

ROMAN

Sam’s kiss was like food for a starving prisoner, heroin for a detoxing drug addict.

Her scent, her touch, the feel of her lips against mine, it wasn’t enough. I wanted her, needed her. Needed to feel every inch of her, be immersed in everything that she was.

I threaded my fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, holding her in place as I felt her go weak against me.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I whispered against her mouth. “I love you. Please let me have you. I want you as mine. I need you, Sam.”

She released a shaky exhale, her body turning boneless against me.

I wrapped my arms around her, lifted her off her feet, and lowered her to the ground. The cave walls wrapped around us like a cocoon.

The plumeria flower I’d picked slipped from my pocket, rolling onto the dark cave floor. It caught her eye. She stilled, then plucked it from the rock. Our eyes met.

“For you,” I whispered.