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“Promise,” I whispered.

I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard. Tommy smelled like chimney smoke, like cinnamon and coffee. It was a smell that could lull me to sleep, make me think of home.

I already knew when I was back in New York I’d catch a whiff of it somewhere and miss someone I’d only spent weeks with.

He let me go with a wink and slipped back inside.

“Ready?” Wolfe’s voice was rough, like it was ripped up from the deepest parts of him.

Under the moonlight, he was almost silver. He looked thinner, like he was fading away from me. His hand reached for mine, cool white smoke brushing along my knuckles.

What if it was this? My lifeline? My tether? What if it was a man who lived and died two centuries ago?

The thought was too sad, too depressing to linger on.

“Ready,” I mumbled.

“Hey.” He caught me by the arm. “Together, remember? I’m with you.”

“You’re with me,” I repeated, and god, I wished it was enough.

Chapter 14

My third week at Kilmorran brought October along with it.

Gloomy, rainy days filled the front half of the week. Wolfe told me it was the beginning of storm season and to expect many more days just like this. Thunder rumbled out over the sea, low and ominous. Lightning split the sky, adding flashes of silver to the golden glow of the sitting room.

That’s where we found ourselves each night. A fire roaring in the hearth, candles lit, something warm for dinner, and enjoying each other’s company.

In all my years of dating, I’d never lived with a man. Not longer than the errant sleepover or two, at least. Seeing Wolfe in every room didn’t unnerve me as much as I thought it would.

It was nice to have someone to talk to. I liked being able to listen to him bump around or sigh, the way he’d stretch from the couch and head to the windows to stare out over the sea.

My vision blurred again, seeing Kilmorran as it had once been. With Wolfe alive, standing there contemplating his tenants and the town and what would be required from him. I felt his weariness, the grit in his eyes and the siren-like call of his bed.

His shoulders were broad, filling up the wide berth of the window. He flickered, white shirt turning green and then burgundy, hair lengthening and shortening as if I were seeing him through the ages.

When he turned, he took form. The firelight sketched across his skin in shadows and golden waves.

“Feel like reading?” he asked, voice rolling low like the thunder outside.

“Reading what?” I asked, moving my laptop off my legs. My document was still blank, cursor glaring at me with every second it stayed empty. “Moira’s romance?”

He shrugged, pretending to stare at a stain on the rug. “She’ll be wanting it back, no? Makes sense to read it now.”

I smirked. “Maybe I didn’t scandalize you as much as you led me to believe.”

“I’m better prepared this time.” He drew himself up to his full height, rolling his neck around. “I challenge it to shock me further.”

I snickered, reaching for the paperback off the coffee table. I flipped open to the spot I’d last read from and settled in. Wolfe took the chair across from me, knees spread and arms draped over the side of the seat. It was an effort not to look at him, not to fall to pieces under the weight of his stare.

I cleared my throat and began. The story took us back to our main character, Elise. She’d just been married to the neighboring clan for peace and they’d consummated their marriage as expected. Of course he was gentle and demanding all at once. She trembled under his touch, full of breathless sighs and whispers.

When the sun rose, the link between them shattered.

Their duties were fulfilled and now they didn’t need to speak to each other again. I wiggled further into the couch, lips tugging into a grin.

“What’s that smile for?” Wolfe asked warily.