Isabella stood frozen.
Her breath hitched as the voice—that voice—slithered down her spine like a whispered spell.
It couldn't be.
No, no, no.
Before she could twist around to confirm it, the hand on her waist tightened, drawing her body flush against a solid, far-too-warm chest. Her breath caught again, lodged in her throat like a stone.
"Mmh... stand still for a moment."
His voice was hoarse, gravelly like he'd just woken from a dream where she belonged to him.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. His arms weren't just holding her—he was anchoring her, pulling her into something she didn't understand. Her heart thundered so violently against her ribs, she was sure he could hear it.
Then his head dipped—to her neck.
Isabella stiffened, but only for a second.
His breath fanned against her skin, a warm caress that made her shiver, and the tip of his nose brushed along her collarbone. Then he inhaled, slow and deep, like he was tasting her scent.
