Some primal force roared inside him, his possessive streak taking charge. He cupped the back of her head, her hair falling over the back of his hand like silk, and tightened his grip. The moment she softened against him, he took control.

His thought processes imploded when she grabbed his ass, her nails digging in a way that set his body on fire. He loved the way her breath was hot on his cheek, the way her eyes had gone unfocused and fluttered closed, her lashes resting softly on her cheeks. She was here and for tonight, this weekend, she was his.

The desire to touch her, to kiss her would end up with her walking away and him hurting again. So why the hell did he reach up and stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckle?

His eyes searched hers. “I’d rather just be me. Feel comfortable in my own skin and be able to speak my mind without having to carry a damned thesaurus. Sure doesn’t seem worth giving up who you are to please others. Far as I’m concerned, they either like me or they don’t. Their choice.

It had been so long since she’d given herself permission to just feel without thinking, to act without discussing the consequences. And yeah, there would be consequences, she had no doubt.

He’d always loved this land, loved how his family had tamed it. It was as much a part of him as his blood. Being involved with him meant moving back here. Being surrounded by bad memories.

He crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted until she met his gaze. Her skin was just as soft as he remembered, and her lips just as full. Only the distress in her eyes was new. At least that was something he could fix