Page 103 of Lawless Rivals

His gaze dips to my mouth and rises again before I can decide whether I imagined it.

“I didn’t expect ya to be nothing like him. You’re not a typical Harrington.”

That answer gets under my skin and heats me all over.

“And all you do is talk about territory,” I go on, keeping my eyes locked on his. “About what it means, what it holds, that you won’t give it up. But what about seeing what’s in front of you instead of always looking back.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You are.”

His gaze sharpens and his brows drift skyward. “Watch it, princess, you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

I don’t stop.

“This isn’t about fences or the last place your father walked,” I say, pressing further, ignoring the warning in his voice. “This is about you losing him out there, and now you’re going to lose everyone else around you too.”

The words are out before I can suck them back in.

He closes the space in a single step, the movement cutting off any thought of retreat as my shoulders hit the wall, the timber solid against my spine.

His presence blots out the dying light, and I have to tilt my head back to look up at him.

“We’re done talking about this,” he says.

I swallow, my hands dropping to my sides because there’s nowhere else to put them.

“Fine.”

He exhales a slow sigh, and the clean scent of soap mixed with the cool countryside air surrounds me.

Our gazes lock, and my pulse stutters, even as every instinct tells me to push him away.

But something else in me doesn’t want to.

And he doesn’t back up either.

Everything seems heightened, my muscles tight, every second stretching while neither of us breaks first.

God, I want this man to kiss me.

Breathing deeply, he rakes a hand through his hair, the motion rougher than anything he’s shown before.

His hand pauses by his head before it lowers to my face. He thumbs my cheek, the rough pad skating across my skin before he pulls back as if it never happened.

My breath catches, and I hate that he sees my reaction.

“You know how this ends,” he says. “Don’t ya? Why this will never work.”

I keep my eyes on his, even as my pulse climbs, even as my body betrays me.

“It ends with us on opposite sides of the heath,” I whisper. “Pretending we hate each other…when we don’t.”

His gaze flicks to my mouth. “Precisely.”

“Then stop looking at me like that,” I murmur.

“It’s hard not to,” he says. “And we called a truce. Didn’t we?”