“What is it, Sestrilla?” he whispered against her ear, holding her close to him just like she knew he would.

She could feel the care in his touch. The strength, yet gentleness. That soft word he called her, foreign, yet so loving the way it rolled off his tongue. “Tell me what that means.” She laid her head against his heart, listening to that steady, reassuring beat. “I need to know what that means.”

“Isabeau.” She heard the sound of sorrow. The sound of a heart breaking.

“Tell me, Conner.” She refused to let him go, even when his hands so very gently were trying to pry her from him. She strengthened her hold and pressed her body tight against his. “I need to know.”

“It’s an ancient word in our world and means ‘beloved one.’”

Her heart turned over, settled, everything in her simply became clear. He’d always called her Sestrilla, long before the first time he’d slept with her.

“You’re my beloved too.”

She felt the breath he took. Ragged. Harsh. Deep. He rested his forehead against hers, his long lashes veiling his expression, but she could see the deep lines etched into his face. There was so much regret, so much sorrow, as if a great weight was on his shoulders, as if he’d already lost everything that mattered to him.

“You don’t understand, Isabeau,” he said gently.

She felt his voice inside of her, wrapping around her heart, sliding deep into her veins where heat rushed and her own heart pulsed to the tune of that smoky, hypnotic drawl.

“What don’t I understand, Conner?” she asked, her voice soft—loving.

He groaned and pushed into her forehead with his. “Don’t. Don’t, honey. I can’t live with losing you all over again. Let me just believe it was too late for us all along. It was over and there was no chance for us.”

“I brought you here under false pretenses, Conner. I’m not so innocent in all this. I needed to see you. I didn’t know Adan would know you from a drawing, but once I realized he could find a way to reach you, every single fiber of my being wanted to see you again. I made it happen. And deep down where I couldn’t look, I knew how you would feel about seducing another woman. I wanted to . . .”

“Don’t.” He put his finger over her lips. “Don’t say it. You don’t have to say it.”

She pressed her lips to his fingers. Stroked a caress with her tongue. “Yes I do. I wanted to punish you. I wanted to hurt you. I’m ashamed of that.”

“Damn it, Isabeau, do you think this makes it any easier?”

“It would if you’d let me have my say,” she nearly growled. Her cat actually jumped beneath her skin and she heard her vibrating in her throat.

She caught Conner’s faint grin. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he’d always liked her little flare of temper. She narrowed her eyes. “I mean it. I have something important to say and you could listen before you argue.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her.

She should have been prepared for it. His hand had shifted to anchor in her hair as he bunched silky strands in his fist. His mouth captured hers in one heart-stopping moment. He tasted wild. Masculine. Hers. She moved closer to him, refusing to let his kiss end, taking over, her tongue sliding along the seam of his lips, teasing and enticing. Tempting. She rubbed her body over his. Seducing.

For a brief moment she felt his resistance running like a steel wire vibrating through his muscles and then, abruptly, he capitulated completely, his arms tightening around her, his mouth becoming commanding, feeding on her, his tongue sweeping inside, melting her with his heat. Fire flared instantly, tongues of flames rushing over her until she burned for him—until he burned for her.

Satisfaction gave her more confidence. She bit at his lower lip, her hands sliding beneath his shirt to find bare skin. One leg curled around his thigh as she pressed closer, offering him everything. Determined to have everything. She wasn’t letting him go—certainly not to guilt. Her hands moved over his bare skin, feeling the texture of him while her mouth absorbed his unique taste.

“Come on, you two, you’re killing us,” Rio said. “We’ve got an escape route to map out and we need you for that.”

Conner lifted his head reluctantly. “Be right there,” he called over his shoulder, his eyes blazing heat into hers. “You know what I have to do,” he said in a low voice. “How do you ever expect me to look you in the eye again?”

“Because I’m the one asking you to do it,” she whispered. She put her fingers over his mouth before he could shape a protest. “Because your mother was my friend and her son is your brother. Because your family is my family and I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe and get them back. I know little Mateo. Marisa brought him to my camp all the time. I didn’t even realize she wasn’t his natural mother any more than I knew she was your mother, but I saw their bond, Conner. We’re in this together, Conner. Don’t make me less than you, or make your sacrifice less than mine. You’re worth everything to me. However—we do whatever we have to do.”

He shook his head. “You’re an amazing and courageous woman, Isabeau, and I don’t deserve you, but you can’t possibly know just how repulsive you’ll find the situation when you see me with her. And you’ll have doubts. Justifiable doubts. Worse, your cat will lose her mind over this. She’ll be dangerous and you’ll spend every moment trying to control her.”