Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(92)

Kellyn’s hands go to my hips, and suddenly finding them bare, he freezes in place.

I’ve got my nightgown bunched up to my waist, but I stop my progress in undressing at his sudden immobility.

He sits up, keeping me close, his hands tightening on my hips.

“Ziva, what are you—”

I kiss him. I can’t help it. “I want you,” I tell him.

He groans against my lips. His arms crush me to him, making it impossible for me to do anything more than return another open-mouthed kiss.

And then he stops. He rests his forehead against mine. Loosens his arms but doesn’t pull away.

“I want you, too,” he says.

I relax—I’d been worried that maybe I’d done something horribly embarrassing that would prevent me from ever leaving my room again.

“But…,” he starts.

I stop breathing. Though my skin was overheated before, it somehow grows hotter, uncomfortable—no, unbearable.

I throw myself off him, thinking to flee. To hide. Because this is horrible, and I misread everything. And how could I be so foolish?

“Whoa. Hold on!”

He catches me before I reach the door.

“Let me go,” I ask feebly.

“Ziva, please, hear me out first. Then I’ll go if that’s what you want. These are your rooms, after all.”

“Fine, but I’m not looking at you.”

If it were possible to hear his lips turn up into a smile, I’m sure I would have.

“That’s fair,” he says, and—as if he can’t help it—he pulls me against him, lest I get any other ideas about escaping.

“I want this, Ziva,” he says. “I want this with you. But not yet.”

He said he loved that word. Right now I hate it. His words are so baffling; I can’t help but step back to look at him.

“Not yet?” I ask. “I don’t understand. I took the precautions. We won’t— I mean, there’s little chance of preg—”

He puts a finger to my lips. “You were prepared for this.”

“I … hoped for it,” I admit.

His eyes are open, wondering. Loving. It’s the only reason I’m still able to look at him.

He swallows. “I made a promise to my ma. The first and only girl I would ever take to bed would be my wife.”

I feel my brows drawing together in confusion. “You promised to wait for marriage? Why?”

He laughs at my tone.

“It’s what I want,” he says. “I don’t want this act to be meaningless. I don’t ever want it to be a temporary thing. I want it to be with my forever.”

“Oh.”

The heat is replaced with ice. I grow unbearably cold, new anxieties taking root. He sees me only as a temporary thing. He’s not as invested in this as I am. I’ve been too hasty. Too ridiculous. I— “Ziva,” he interrupts. “I want my forever to be you. I don’t want anyone else.” He says the words quickly, as though he can read my thoughts. “But marriage is a big commitment. And with a war upcoming, how could we possibly discuss any huge life changes? And I didn’t want to scare you away if I started talking about forever too soon. I worry all the time that I’ll say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to send you running. That you’ll become too scared to be with me. That you’ll prefer a life spent alone.”

His words tumble out of him like a cascading waterfall. But I catch his meaning.

The ice inside me melts.

“You want me?” I clarify.

“Yes,” he says.

“Just not yet?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

As though a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, his whole frame sags in relief. He draws me to him again.

“Thank you for understanding,” he says.

“Of course,” I say. “I would never pressure you for something you didn’t want. I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you about it first.”

“You would never have been able to broach this topic,” he answers in understanding.

I laugh at myself. “No.”

We stand there for a bit, holding each other.

“Just to be clear,” Kellyn says. “I want to marry you, but I don’t want you to do anything before you’re ready. I’m a little older than you are. You might want to see other people first. Figure out what it is you’re looking for in a partner. I know I was your first, but that doesn’t mean I have to be your only.”

Now I’m jerking backward again. “You want me to see other men?”

“No,” he answers firmly, almost angrily. “I’m saying I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to make sure I was what you wanted first. My feelings wouldn’t change. And of course I hate the idea of you even trying to be with anyone else. But I don’t want you to feel trapped or as though you have to settle—”

I silence him with a finger at his lips.

“I know what I want. Didn’t I tell you before? I’ve never even been interested in anyone else before. I don’t need to see what else is out there when I’ve already found everything I want.”

He smiles. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”