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Ireland’s gaze lingered over the soft curve of his mouth, wondering if his lips could possibly taste as delectable as they looked. Our only similarity is being pawns in a game that began centuries before either of our fathers got an amorous gleam in their eyes.” He matched her steps, leading them in an intimate waltz normally reserved for predators-or lovers. “You’re like me?” Pacing in a slow circle around him, Ireland’s eye narrowed. “No need for that, boys.” Ridley smoothed the front of his suit coat, a self-depreciating chuckle playing over his lips. Both men blinked away their disappointment before dipping in a low bow-foreheads to the ground in a show of respect. Wan complexions of the dying were ripened to plump apricot. Bending eye-level with her withering subjects, Ridley pursed his rose petal lips to blow a soft, healing breath over both of them. The moment he stepped away from her, the chill of solitude lashed at Ireland’s soul and cut deep. Tipping his head toward her, the warmth of his breath teased over her breast bone. Even then he didn’t grace her with a glance, his attention fixed on Rip and Noah. “To them this is a thrill, a game of chicken against the Reaper himself.” Ridley paused beside her, his shoulder skimming hers. The draw of which was so magnetic Ireland had to fight to keep her feet planted while her body insisted she close the distance between them. The man before her exuded confidence and a zest for life from every pore. His haggard and troubled façade was a thing of the past. As he neared, Ireland noticed his eyes morphed to match as well. The crisp cut of his white, tailored suit was accented by a burst of color from the button-down shirt beneath that changed in hue to match the species of flowers that sprung to life. Techno-colored flowers bloomed in a colorless world each time the sole of Ridley’s shoes met the earth. She spun as he neared, leaving Rip and Noah wheezing for breath-or, more likely, completion of her task. “You can’t blame them for not understanding,” a familiar voice drawled behind her. One lone tear snuck between her lashes at the cascade of tingles seeping up her arms. Clamping her eyes on the wash of tears that threatened, Ireland ignored the wailing of her heart … and laid a palm to each of their cheeks.