She smiled, delirium seeping through her veins. “Clearly.”
His jaw clenched briefly. “I want to see you, Jade. All of you.”
A modicum of self-consciousness skittered through her, chasing away the delirium. Here she stood before a gorgeous, mammoth of a man, with no flaws in sight, other than his internal scars. She hadn’t been naked in front of another person since she was eighteen. And even then, she and Michael had been shrouded by bedcovers.
She couldn’t help but wonder about the female forms in Darien’s past. Even Sheena was picture-perfect. Did he find her alluring?
“No.”
Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Stop reading my thoughts.”
“Easy pickings this time. I could see the doubt in your eyes.”
“Have you…” Her hand whimsically gestured toward the door. “With Sheena? Or Jocelyn?”
He let out a hearty laugh, cutting the previous edginess that had set in as they’d discussed their precarious predicaments. “Absolutely not. Both are in my service and I wouldn’t take advantage of that relationship. But beyond that…I don’t find either one as appealing as I do you. Besides, Sheena sticks to her kind.”
A point that did not fall on deaf ears. “That’s a good practice, I suppose.”
He nodded, yet he didn’t relinquish his hold on her. “The path we’re traveling is much more convoluted. But difficult to step off of.”
She knew she’d be false to insist otherwise. So she boldly said, “The slayers will come for me soon. I heard you tell Morgan to alert them you’d brought me to the castle to recover. We don’t have much time together.”
Fire lit his eyes. “And every moment wasted is one we won’t reclaim.”
Her need for him had turned into such a consuming, living, breathing entity she found it impossible to ignore the desire gripping her very soul. She wiggled out of his loose embrace and pulled her top over her head before letting the garment drop to the marble floor. Anxiety didn’t stand a chance of sneaking up on her as Darien gazed at her, lust and longing in his eyes.
She slipped out of her drawstring pants and stood before him in nothing but her bra and panties. They were as simple and functional as could be, and yet his irises darkened and his breath caught. Spurred on by his reaction to her, she discarded the lingerie.
A deeper emotion flashed in his earnest expression. He said, “You are stunning.”
His fingertips grazed her cheek, over her jaw and down her neck. He trailed along her collarbone, then swept back to the hollow of her throat. From there, the pads of his fingers brushed against her skin as they moved slowly downward to the valley between her breasts, now heavy with desire.
Jade reveled in the appreciative look he gave her. At the moment, it didn’t register in her mind that he was a king. Or that he was immortal, obviously elite amongst his kind. What she saw before her was a man. One of flesh and blood and bone. One with a moral conscience. One with physical wants and needs that mirrored her own. One who did not judge her, find fault with her or consider her weak.
She would never live up to the high regard in which his expression suggested he held her, yet at the same time, she had no inclination to give in to human insecurities. Somehow, they’d found themselves in a scenario where the outside world and the severe differences between them ceased to exist. If only for an evening…
Jade reached for the fastenings on his leather pants and undid them. He toed off his boots and she finished undressing him. Then she stood back and admired him, her pulse spiking, her breathing escalating. He was more than magnificently built. He was a gift to be treasured.
He turned the water on and then took her by the hand, leading her into the large, walk-in shower. The metal sheet with hammered holes hanging overhead created a rainfall effect that was sensuous and inviting. The glimmer of candlelight against the glass portion of the marble shower wall cast shadows and light that lent a seductive mood to the private haven. Warm water sluiced down her body, and it not only felt cleansing and refreshing but wildly titillating.
Darien ran his hands through her wet hair and asked, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Much better,” she said. “I pulled through quicker than I’d expected, thanks in large part to you, Morgan and Sheena.” Stepping closer to him, she placed her palms over his abdomen and said, “Mostly you.” Stretching on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against his. He bent his head and kissed her deeply. Then she moved away and inspected the various jars and soaps lined neatly along a built-in shelf.
Selecting a mint-colored bar, she lathered up and then ran her hands over the wide chest of the brawny man who did everything to arouse her in every conceivable way simply by being himself.
“You have a physique meant to be sculpted and placed in a museum,” she told him.
“We don’t have museums anymore.”
“If we did,” she amended. Giving this further thought, she shook her head and said, “I’ve changed my mind. This body is not meant to be molded and admired in stone form.” Her soapy hands slid over the corrugated grooves of his stomach and she sighed. “It’s meant to be worshipped in person.”
“Don’t worship,” he said in a tight voice. “Just touch.”
She smiled at him. “I am touching.”
Her hands glided up to his broad shoulders, then down his rock-hard arms. When he reached for her, pulling her into a strong embrace, her palms slid around to his wide, sinewy back. Her breasts pressed below the well-defined ledge of his pectoral muscles, and her nipples tingled as his smooth skin and solid muscles teased the sensitive points.