Page 12 of Ariel’s Possessive Prince

I tip my head back and groan. “That would, in fact, prevent it from talking to anything. I’ll have the team fix it.” I hesitate, then take the leap. “It was you, right? In the water? Pulling me back to the boat?” My eyes narrow. “And the kiss?”

Her smile is small and devastating. “You didn’t dream it.”

“Good,” I say too fast. “Because I’m about to kiss you again. Without the concussion this time.”

Her blush intensifies. “I-I’d like that.”

I step closer, slow enough to be stopped, close enough to feel the cool air stirring off her skin. I cup her jaw, thumb grazing the soft heat of her cheek. She smells like clean linen and the ocean.

Before I can consider the ramifications, I lower my mouth to hers.

It’s a mistake. I know it immediately. Not because it feels wrong, but because it feels so fucking right. Her lips are as warm, soft, and plump as I remember. I plan to pull back after that initial taste, but she makes a little mewling moan that sounds like desperation and twines her arms around my neck like vines climbing a stone wall.

Only I’m not a stone wall. I’m flesh and bone and want.

With a groan, I circle one arm around her waist, pulling her closer as I lick the seam of her mouth, enticing her to open for me. She tastes like salt and sweetness and the electricity in the air before a storm. The kiss tilts and deepens. Heat spills between us like sunlight through water.

I’m no saint, but it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been intimate with a woman. Between work commitments and honoring the ruse between Kara and me, I’ve relied on my right hand to take care of any sexual needs.

But this woman, this mysterious, intoxicating woman, sets my body and soul on fire in a way I’ve never experienced before. And no kiss has ever felt like this. Like… more.

Innocence marks her response as she greets my eager tongue with a tentative lick of hers. I’m pretty fucking sure it’s not because she’s wary of me but because this is her first kiss. The thought sends a primal surge of emotion through my chest and a bolt of lust to my groin. Christ, why has no one kissed her before? Why has no one claimed this glorious mouth and tasted its honeyed depths?

I inhale her fragrance, something elemental heated with passion, absorbing her soft curves against my hardness and memorizing every dip and swell as they press against my chest, my stomach, my cock.

Pulling back a little, stroking a finger over her hot cheek. “There’s more, isn’t there? You looked… wrecked at the hospital. Scared. Did someone hurt you? Is that why you left?”

Her gaze flicks past my shoulder to the window, like the right words are moving out there in the air. “Not in the way you think,” she says softly.

I ease back enough to read her face. “Then why?”

Her throat works on a swallow. “I just… didn’t belong anymore.” She says it carefully, like stepping barefoot over glass. “Where I was, there were rules about what your life is supposed to be. Who you talk to. What you’re allowed to learn. I wanted to study the water for real, not just sit in a room and repeat what someone else said about it.” Her fingers twist together, then still when I cover them with mine. “I wanted to see how people actually live with the world instead of pretending they’re separate from it. And that wasn’t… welcome.”

I feel that like a hit to the ribs. “So they pushed you out.”

Her mouth tips, sad and defiant at once. “Sometimes, the place you love decides you’re not part of it anymore. Sometimes you’re the problem for wanting more.”

I let that sit between us. There are shadows behind it, too many edges, but she’s watching me with that wary, luminous look, and I know if I press she’ll vanish behind her walls.

“Hey,” I murmur, cupping her cheek, letting my thumb skim the soft curve just under her eye, “whatever you left, you’re safe now.”

Her lips part on a shaky breath. “You don’t even know who I am.”

“Maybe not,” I tell her, leaning in until our noses brush, “but I know how I feel when you look at me. And that’s a start.”

For a long moment, neither of us moves. The hum of the city and the thrum of our heartbeats fold into the quiet between us.

Then she leans forward, rests her head against my chest, and whispers, “I don’t know if I’m meant to stay.”

“Then stay for now,” I say, my hand finding the small of her back, warm through her blouse. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Her breath catches. Relief floods her azure eyes, and I know I’ve touched something fragile. Whatever she’s running from isn’t over. But for the first time, she doesn’t look like she’s about to bolt for the door.

I force myself to release her and retreat behind my desk before I offer to name a boat after her.

“So, you’ve spent a lot of time in the water?” I ask, my voice gruff.

“Yes… diving,” she says carefully, eyes on the floor. “Near the far coves. The trash isn’t awful unless it’s collecting deep. But there’s an odd algae bloom in a remote area. You might want to check it.”

“Show me.” I’m up again, ushering her toward the lab. If she has data—or even good instincts—I want it in front of my team.