The air was too still.
Autumn felt the night press in on her like damp cloth soaked in heat. Her skin was too tight. Her breath wouldn't even out. And worst of all… Kieran was staring.
He took another step forward. She matched it with a step back, hitting the marble rim of the fountain again.
Her hands slipped behind her slightly, trying to steady herself…but the stone felt too cold now…or maybe her temperature had spiked.
Her blood was humming. And her gown was already half undone.
"Don't come closer," she warned, voice low but trembling with something that wasn't fear. Not quite.
Kieran stopped. But only just. The moonlight carved sharp lines across his face…cheekbone, jaw, throat.
He looked like Aphrodite's son. Autumn gulped. Why did the bastard have to look so good!
"I am not touching you," he rasped. "Not unless you ask me to."