Donovan watched Sloane flee, rubbing his bottom lip.

He'd told himself he'd heed Cruz's advice and control himself around her. This was not the time to indulge his carnal urges, not when the fate of the Set was at stake. Not when it might push Sloane away again. And yet when she'd looked at him, when she'd caressed his cheek with such tenderness, he'd been unable to stop himself from tasting her again.

He didn't drink. He'd never been interested in alcohol, not ...