Page 38 of One Hot Chase

But my words lack their usual bite.

Declan's expression softens as he reaches out, his fingers barely grazing my cheek. The touch sends electricity coursing through me. "Sabrina, darling, you don't need to hide behind those walls anymore. Not with me."

I can't breathe or speak. His words have stunned me that deeply. I want to believe him, want to let myself fall into those impossibly blue eyes and never resurface. But I can't overhaul my mindset in a few minutes.

"Oh really?" I say with tartness in my tone. "And what makes you so special, Sir Declan? Your dashing good looks? Your ability to annoy me and then abruptly turn back into a charmer?"

He chuckles, but there's an intensity in his gaze that makes my throat thicken. "How about the fact that I see you, Sabrina Remington? The real you, not just the sassy exterior you show the world."

His thumb traces my jawline, and I can't resist leaning into his touch. "I see the woman who's afraid to love again but who yearns for it with every fiber of her being. The woman who hides her vulnerability behind quick wit and sharp retorts. The woman who's stronger than she realizes."

I swallow hard, my heart pounding. "Declan, I---"

"Shh," he whispers, leaning in closer. I can smell the faint scent of his cologne and see the sincerity in his gaze. "You don't have to say anything, love. Just...let yourself feel."

And then his lips descend on mine, tender yet insistent. For a moment, I'm frozen, overwhelmed by the implications of everything he said and the way he kisses me. But then something inside me breaks free, and give in, responding to his kiss with a hunger I didn't know I possessed. My fingers tangle in his dark, silky hair as I draw him closer. He wraps his arms around my waist as if he never wants to let me go, and I abandon myself to the sweet satisfaction he gives me. When we finally peel ourselves away from each other, we're both breathless and speechless.

Then it happens. His tender smile mutates into a snide smirk, and the spell breaks.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "You look rather...incensed. Like a bull trapped in a corral."

"I am a woman, not a bull."

"Ah, my mistake." His eyes twinkle with humor. "Perhaps a feisty little filly then?"

I squint at him, gusting a breath out through my nostrils. "Oh, you did not just go there, cowboy."

"Of course I did." His smirk deepens as he clearly enjoys my irritation. "What's the matter, Bree? Can't take a little teasing after such an intimate moment?"

Though I realize he's teasing me, it's still damn annoying. Maybe our new, deeper intimacy has knocked him off kilter too. I shuffle backward a few steps. "I can take plenty, Mr. Wilde. What I can't stomach is your sudden personality change. One minute you're all deep and understanding, the next you're back to being an insufferable skunk."

Declan's smirk falters briefly, a flicker of something---regret? vulnerability?---clouding his gaze. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

It's time for me to get away from him and draw some distance between us. "Goodbye, Declan Wilde. I'm moving on---and moving away from you."

"Yes, pet, go on and run away again. That's your forte, isn't it? Or perhaps you'll track down Crispin, the daft git who actually thought he had a chance with you."

All I can do is growl at him. Declan drives me insane. I don't care if he might be right, a little bit, once in a while. I'm done with the jackass. I swear I am.

"Are you giving up the quest for your PC?" he asks. "I suppose that's an appropriate moniker since you seem to think men are like personal computers that you swap out as you like."

I spin on my heel, fuming on the inside. How dare he? After everything I'd shared, after that kiss...

"You know what, Declan?" I spit out, whirling back to face him. "You're right. I am running away---from arrogant, emotionally stunted jerks like you who think they can play with people's feelings like it's some kind of game."

His smirk falters, and surprise flickers across his face. Good. I'm not done yet.

"For your information," I continue, jabbing a finger at his chest, "Crispin is twice the man you'll ever be. He may not have your looks or your charm, but at least he's genuine. At least he doesn't hide behind sarcasm to avoid intimate conversations."

Declan frowns. "Is that what you think? That I'm hiding?"

"Prove me wrong," I challenge, lifting my chin defiantly.

For a moment, we stand here, locked in a battle of wills. The air crackles with tension, and I'm acutely aware of how close we are, how I can smell the masculine scent of him.

Then he thrusts his hand out, grasping my wrist to drag me against him. I gasp, my free hand instinctively pressing against his chest to steady myself.

"You want something genuine, Sabrina?" he growls, his face inches from mine. "Here it is. I'm terrified of how you make me feel, of how easily you've slipped past every defense I've built."