Daniel stood next to the sink, gazing down at her. His expression was still somber. "You understand. Thank you."
She touched him then, her hand rising of its own volition, and pressed her palm over his heart. She felt the warmth of his skin through the cotton of his t-shirt and felt the pulse of his heartbeat travel up her arm. "Some wounds are invisible, but that doesn't mean you don't bleed inside."
She saw the moment when his beast rose inside him, a tide of gold sweeping across his green eyes. He stepped close, pushing her against the cool, unyielding edge of the countertop. His lean, muscular body pressed against her from belly to breasts. His scarred hands cupped her face firmly, his palms and fingers feverishly hot against her cheeks and jaw.
Daniel growled low in his throat, and the sound sent a thrill of anticipation through her as he bent his head. But instead of the savage kiss she was expecting—maybe even hoping for—his mouth was gentle as it closed over hers, his lips almost chaste as they lingered against hers in a warm caress.
But the fire that his mouth kindled deep in her belly was anything but chaste. It raced through her, starting a hot, insistent throbbing between her legs.
Almost before it began, the kiss was over.
Margaret blinked as Daniel pulled back and released her as abruptly as if she'd just burned him. Her lips tingled and she could still feel the shape of his mouth imprinted on hers.
He looked down at her, his eyes still hazed with gold and his expression troubled.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough. "I didn't mean—"
"You did. And I'm glad." Margaret didn't want an apology. She wanted to kiss him some more.
So she snaked her arms around his neck and drew him down for another, deeper kiss.