Unexpected. Kate’s heart hammered as heat rushed through her. She supposed she should have put up more of a fight, but she was transfixed by his gaze. His small, knowing smile. By eyes that bore such a depth of pain as he’d talked of living rough, when he’d dealt with that street boy, at the mention of his father. Rey Doyle hadn’t chosen to become a monster, he’d been damaged. His hand lifted and he stroked the back of his forefinger down her cheek, grey eyes simmering with heat. The air around them stilled. The only thing she could hear was her quickened breath and a small voice in her ears telling her to run. But she didn’t. She sat astride his motorbike and let him touch her face. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she raised her hand and cupped his cheek in her palm. Because, she couldn’t sit here and not touch him back. Because he was mesmerising, dazzling, bewitching. This close she could see the scars, all well-healed, but telling some of his story. There was a brutal beauty about them that caught deep in her chest and tugged.
