Thorin placed his hands on Riona's neck, leaning in with all the confidence of a man who definitely hadn't misread every signal up to this point.
Just as he was about to go deeper, she pulled away, gently but unmistakably. His brows furrowed in confusion, and just the tiniest hint of hurt crept in.
Did she not want this? Of course not, he thought bitterly. The kiss had been his decision, an impulsive act driven by his desire. He was lucky she hadn't slapped him.
Still, Thorin didn't move his hands. Nope, they stayed right there, gripping her neck like a hopeful idiot. He just stared at her lips—those plump, red lips that were mocking him now.
Surely, any second she'd come around, right? Right?
Meanwhile, Riona was trying to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, mentally sorting through the chaos in her brain.
And chaos it was—Riona wasn't exactly known for overthinking. She was more of a do-first, apologize-later kind of person.
