“Yeah, I know what that is.” Annoyed, she started to jump down, but he moved, turning his body until it blocked hers. “Do you think I felt nothing for you, nothing, when we stood with our backs to the sea and those demons coming out of the dark? Did you think I felt nothing, so would go, would save myself, because you said to?”
“I didn’t know you were going to pull a dragon out of your hat, so—”
She broke off, went rigid when he reached out, gripped her chin in his hand. “Did you think I felt nothing,” he said again, and his eyes were deep and gold and thoughtful. “Feel nothing now?”
And hell, she thought. She’d boxed herself in.
“I’m not asking about your feelings,” she began.
“I’m telling you whether you ask or not.” He moved in a little closer, his legs planted on either side of hers, his eyes on her face. Curiously. “I can’t say I know what I feel as I don’t think I’ve felt it before. But there’s something when I look at you, now. When I see you in battle. Or when I watched you, just this morning watched you, moving like magic in the mist.”
As she’d felt something, she admitted, when she’d ridden on his back into battle. When she’d watched him light up over music. “This is a really bad idea.”
“I haven’t said I had an idea as yet. But I’ve feelings, so many of them I can’t seem to pick one out from the others and have a good look at it. And so…”
Her head jerked back as his bowed to hers. Her hand slapped on to his wrist.
“Oh, be still a moment,” he said with a half laugh. “And let me have a try at this. You can’t be afraid of something as easy as a kiss.”
Not afraid, but certainly wary. Certainly curious. She sat as she was, the fingers of one hand curled loosely on the back edge of the van, the others around his wrist.
His lips were soft on hers, just a whisper of contact. A brush, a rub, a light and teasing nip. She had a moment to think he was very good at this particular game before the mists floated over her mind.
Strong, he thought. He’d known there’d be strength, and it was a lovely jolt to the system. But there was sweetness as well; he hadn’t been sure of that. So that kissing her was like having wine running through his blood.
And there was need, what seemed to be a deep, simmering well of need in him. He hoped in her.
The kiss deepened so he heard the sound of her pleasure purr in her throat. So he felt that wonderful body of hers press, press and yield to his.
When he would have laid her back, back beside the swords, the axes, she put a hand to his chest and held him away.
“No.”
“I hear it plain enough, but no isn’t what I felt.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what I’m saying.”
He traced a finger from her shoulder to her wrist while his eyes searched her face. “Why?”
“I’m not sure why. I’m not sure, so it’s no.”
She turned, began to gather weapons.
“I’m wanting to ask a question.” He smiled when she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you wear your hair so short so I’ll be enchanted by the nape of your neck. The way it slopes there, it make me just want to…lick at it.”
“No.” Just listen to the way he uses that voice, she thought. The women of Geall must scamper after him like puppies. “I wear it short because it doesn’t give the enemy much to grab and pull if he wants to fight like a girl.” She turned back. “And it looks good on me.”
“It does, that it does. Like a faerie queen. I always thought, if they existed, they’d have strength and courage in their faces.”
He leaned toward her again, and she laid the blade of a sword against his chest.
He looked down at it, up at her. This time his smile was full of fun. “That’s a good bit more than no. I was just going to kiss you again. I wouldn’t ask for anything else. Just one more kiss.”
“You’re awful damn cute,” she said after a minute. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But because you’re awful damn cute and tempting, we’re going to leave it at one.”
“All right then, if that’s the way it has to be.” He reached past her, picked up an ax, the bucket of stakes. “But I’m just going to be thinking about another one. And so are you.”
“Maybe.” She started toward the house, arms loaded with weapons. “A little frustration will give me a nice edge.”