“They'd followed him up and had seen him open the door of a room not far from the head of the stairs. He hadn't so much as glanced their way but had gone in and shut the door. She'd walked on with Martha, past that door, down the corridor and around a corner to their chamber.Drawing in a tight-faintly excited-breath, she set out, quietly creeping back to the corner, her evening slippers allowing her to tiptoe along with barely a sound.Nearing the corner, she paused and glanced back along the corridor. Still empty. Reassured, she started to turn, intending to peek around the corner-A hard body swung around the corner and plowed into her. She stumbled back. Hard hands grabbed her, holding her upright.Her heart leapt to her throat. She looked up,saw only darkness.She opened her mouth-A palm slapped over her lips. A steely arm locked around her-locked her against a large, adamantine male body; she couldn't even squirm.Her senses scrambled. Strength, male heat, muscled hardness engulfed her.Then a virulent curse singed her ears.And she realized who'd captured her.Panic and sheer fright had tensed her every muscle; relief washed both away and she felt limp. The temptation to sag in his arms, to sink gratefully against him, was so nearly overwhelming that it shocked her into tensing again.He lowered his head so he could look into her face. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "What the hell are you doing?"His tone very effectively dragged her wits to the fore. He hadn't removed his hand from her lips. She nipped it.With a muted oath, he pulled the hand away.She moistened her lips and angrily whispered back, "Coming to see you, of course. What are you doing here?""Coming to fetch you-of course.""You ridiculous man." Her hands had come to rest on his chest. She snatched them back, waved them. "I'm hardly likely to come to grief over the space of a few yards!"Even to her ears they sounded like squabbling children.He didn't reply.Through the dark, he looked at her.She couldn't see his eyes, but his gaze was so intent, so intense that she could feel...her heart started thudding, beating heavier, deeper.Her senses expanded, alert in a wholly unfamiliar way.he looked at her...looked at her.Primitive instinct riffled the delicate hairs at her nape.Abruptly he raised his head, straightened, stepped back. "Come on."Grabbing her elbow, he bundled her unceremoniously around the corner and on up the corridor before him. Her temper-always close to the surface when he was near-started to simmer. If they hadn't needed to be quiet, she would have told him what she thought of such cavalier treatment.Breckenridge halted her outside the door to his bedchamber; he would have preferred any other meeting place, but there was no safer place, and regardless of all and everything else, he needed to keep her safe. Reaching around her, he raised the latch and set the door swinging. "In here."He'd left the lamp burning low. As he followed her in, then reached back and shut the door, he took in what she was wearing. He bit back another curse.She glanced around, but there was nowhere to sit but on the bed. Quickly he strode past her, stripped off the coverlet, then autocratically pointed at the sheet. "Sit there."With a narrow-eyed glare, she did, with the haughty grace of a reigning monarch. Immediately she'd sat, he flicked out the coverlet and swathed her in it.She cast him a faintly puzzled glance but obligingly held the enveloping drape close about her.He said nothing; if she wanted to think he was concerned about her catching a chill, so be it. At least the coverlet was long enough to screen her distracting angles and calves.Which really was ridiculous. Considering how many naked women he'd seen in his life, why the sight of her stockinged ankles and calves should so affect him was beyond his ability to explain.”

“It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings”

“Mark.” She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers, her entire world anchored on his finger. When it slid inside her, she thunked her head back against the door and panted. Then his thumb brushed her in a slow circle.She cried out against his lips, arching into him, yanking his hair. She couldn’t help it. She was going up in flames. He merely pressed her hard to the door, locking her in place. Continuing the torture, he added another finger. She came hard and fast, the power of it sweeping over her like a tidal wave.”

“She didn’t know Matt had followed her until he grabbed her shoulder, halting her headlong rush to nowhere. He turned her into his arms, pulled her against his chest, crushed her mouth in a searing kiss.“Shane,” he said when he raised his head from hers. “I love you. I love you.”Her heart opened and the wall inside her trembled as she clung to him. “Burn me up, Matt,” she said, her voice a ragged whisper. “Burn it away. Please, please, burn it all away.”She heard him growl deep in his throat and he lifted her into his arms in one swift movement. As he carried her back across the parking lot and through the door of her room, she rained kisses on his neck and the hard line of his jaw. His skin was warm and damp and tasted of salt and desire.”

“The little group before her finally moved on and Sarah took its place, standing before Tom like he was a painting in a museum.And then his vacant eyes dropped from that point somewhere above her head and he looked at her—looked into her eyes and registered her presence. His eyes widened and his mouth opened wordlessly.For the space of six heartbeats they stared at one another and then Sarah simply said, “Come home.” She held her hand out to him.He gazed at it for a moment.“Come with me,” she said softly.Slowly he rose from his chair and walked toward her. He slipped his hand into hers and his palm was warm and callused.She stepped back and pulled him along with her. Suddenly his arms went around her, hugging her tight, his head dropped to her shoulder and his mouth pressed into her hair as he whispered, “I can’t believe you’re here.”Her hands slipped up the smooth, supple skin of his back to hook over his shoulders. She buried her face against his chest, breathing him in, forgetting time and place and circumstance and just holding him.”

“At the door, she made him promise to go without goodbyes. She closed the door on him. Laila leaned her back against it, shaking against his pounding fists, one arm gripping her belly and a hand across her mouth, as he spoke throughout the door and promised that he would come back for her. She stood there until he tired, until he gave u , and then she listened to his uneven footsteps until they faded, until all was quiet, save for the gunfire cracking in the hills and her own heart thudding in her belly, her eyes, her bones.”

“We should go back inside," she said, in a half whisper. She did not want to go back inside. She wanted to stay here, with Will achingly close, almost leaning into her. She could feel the heat that radiated from his body. His dark hair fell around the mask, into his eyes, tangling with his long eyelashes. "We have only a little time-"She took a step forward-and stumbled into Will, who caught her. She froze-and then her arms crept around him, her fingers lacing themselves behind his neck. Her face was pressed against his throat, his soft hair under her fingers. She closed her eyes, shutting out the dizzying world, the light beyond the French windows, the glow of the sky. She wanted to be here with Will, cocooned in this moment, inhaling the clean sharp scent of him., feeling the beat of his heart against hers, as steady and strong as the pulse of the ocean.She felt him inhale. "Tess," he said. "Tess, look at me."She raised her eyes to his, slow and unwilling, braced for anger or coldness-but his gaze was fixed on hers, his dark blue eyes somber beneath their thick black lashes, and they were stripped of all their usual cool, aloof distance. They were as clear as glass and full of desire. And more than desire-a tenderness she had never seen in them before, had never even associated with Will Herondale. That, more than anything else, stopped her protest as he raised his hands and methodically began to take the pins from her hair, one by one. This is madness, she thought, as the first pin rattled to the ground. They should be running, fleeing this place. Instead she stood, wordless, as Will cast Jessamine's pearl clasps aside as if they were so much paste jewelry. Her own long, curling dark hair fell down around her shoulders, and Will slid his hands into it. She heard him exhale as he did so, as if he had been holding his breath for months and had only just let it out. She stood as if mesmerized as he gathered her hair in his hands, draping it over one of her shoulders, winding her curls between his fingers. "My Tessa," he said, and this time she did not tell him that she was not his."Will," she whispered as he reached up and unlocked her hands from around his neck. He drew her gloves off, and they joined her mask and Jessie's pins on the stone floor of the balcony. He pulled off his own mask next and cast it aside, running his hands through his damp black hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The lower edge of the mask had left marks across his high cheekbones, like light scars, but when she reached to touch them, he gently caught at her hands and pressed them down."No," he said. "Let me touch you first. I have wanted...”