Chapter 31
Silas I sucked lightly on his, drawing a rough sound from the back of his throat. My fingers curled into his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl against my lips.
Breathless, I pulled back only far enough to speak against his mouth. "I need you out of this shirt."
Silas's laugh was low, dark. "Bossy tonight, Mrs. Thorne."
I didn't answer with words. My fingers found the buttons of his crisp white dress shirt and worked them open one by one, revealing inch after inch of warm, tanned skin.
When I reached the last button and pushed the halves apart, my gaze dropped to the scar on the left side of his chest—right over his heart.
A month and a half ago, he'd thrown himself between me and a bullet. The wound had healed cleanly, but the scar remained, a brutal reminder of how close I'd come to losing him.