Free Magic Unchained by Jessica Andersen Page A

to press a kiss to her knuckles. His lips were soft, his beard shadow a bristly scrape of contrast, and it was over before she felt anything more than relief that he hadn’t tried to kiss her for real.
    Without pulling her hand away, she said, “I can’t, Zane. I just… can’t. I didn’t ask for this job, but now that I’ve got it, I need to give it twice as much energy as I have, which means I’ve got nothing left for anything else, including a relationship, or even a hookup. That’s all going to have to wait until I’m done leading the charge.” She grimaced. “Then again, given the way the
winikin
are sniping at each other these days, Mendez—or, hell, the gods themselves—might just decide to replace me before then.”
    Which wasn’t something she’d ever said to anyone else before, had barely even acknowledged it herself. And once it was out there, she wished she’d kept it inside, because he hesitated, letting her know that he too had his doubts. But what if that was the right answer? What if she was doing more harm than good? What if—
    “You can do this.” Zane spaced the words for emphasis, still holding her hand in a grip that felt suddenly warm and solid. “The holdouts are going to get behind you. There’s going to come a moment when they’re going to rally, not because they’d rather be led by a
winikin
—any
winikin
—than a mage, but because you’re the right person for the job.” He paused. “That’s why you should’ve been the one hauling ass for the shield today while I stayed behind. And it’s part of why I want to be with you. I want to have your back, more than I do now. I want to be there for you, no matter what.”
    Her chest went tight. “I can’t… I won’t… Shit.” Breaking off, she pulled her hand away from his and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing back the burn of tears. “I’m sorry. I just can’t deal with this right now.”
    “That’s the thing, Cara. Don’t you get it? If you let me in then you won’t have to deal with things alone anymore. We can work together, be a team. Partners.”
    Part of her yearned with a fierce intensity she hadn’t felt since childhood, when things had been so much simpler, and saying, “I want,” hadn’t come with all the risks and conditions of adulthood. She wanted to be part of that sort of team; she always had. “I don’t think—”
    Seeing her waver, he moved in. And kissed her.
    At the touch of his lips, she sucked in a breath as a sudden rush of embarrassed heat turned her momentarily light-headed and had her grabbing for his arms. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss, shaping his mouth to hers and sliding in, tongue to tongue. And for a crazy second that went against everything she’d been telling herself for the past two days, ever since he’d revealed his feelings, something inside her said,
What the hell,
why not
?
His arguments were good ones, and she was so damn tired of being in charge.
    So she kissed him back.
    His breath hissed out when she softened against him, and he splayed his hands across her back high and low, making her suddenly aware of her own body in a way she hadn’t been in a long, long time. Their tongues met and separated with a rhythm that reminded her of the battle strategies that were becoming second nature: probe and retreat, probe and retreat, seeking a weakness in the enemy lines. Only they weren’t enemies and this wasn’t a battle, and his body was strong and solid, anchoring her. She let herself stay locked there—in his arms, in the moment. And if a small voice in the back of her head said she should pull back, hold off, make sure she knew what she was doing, she ignored it to feel the warm press of his mouth and arms, and the layers of muscle beneath his shirt where she gripped his upper arms.
    But that was it, she realized as the kiss went on and her brain kicked back in. She didn’t really feel any burning desire to let her hands roam away from his biceps and