Her hand was pressed against his chest, the heat of it almost searing his skin through his shirt and he had to resist the urge to take it in his own. That would be too much for her. He was going to have to win her round slowly, though all he really wanted to do was back her against the wall and have done with it.
“You’re back,” she said, her voice soft and breathy. If she kept this up then she was going to be the death of him.
“I said I would be,” he replied, equally as soft, giving off the impression that they were actually having a lovers’ moment and not their third conversation to date.
“I know, just—”
“And we’re on a deadline right?” A small crease formed on her forehead, and an adorable expression crossed her face. “Your sister’s wedding,” he prompted. Her mouth opened, making a perfect ‘o’ shape.
“Sorry, I—” She frowned and cocked her head to the side. “I don’t know how I forgot that.” She shook her head as if trying to chase something away.
“I get it.” And he did. There was definitely something happening between them, and it was all he could do to remember his own name, never mind the fact he was at a friend’s wedding. He stopped cold as realisation hit. No wonder Bex and Robert didn’t seem right for one another. Robert was as human as they came, and if Mia was a witch then that meant that Bex was too. She wasn’t meant to be with Robert because Robert wasn’t her mate. This wedding could go horribly horribly wrong if that was the case, and he didn’t want it to. The last thing he wanted was for Mia to be upset because Bex hadn’t had the day of her dreams.
Neither of them moved, and Mia’s hand still pressed against his chest, leaving them connected in a way that he’d never felt before. There was definitely something about her that he just couldn’t get past, and if he was honest, he didn’t really want to.
“Would you like them?”
“Huh?” she asked, her eyes flicking to his lips, making him long to close the distance between them and kiss her like he wanted to. It’d be the most intense kiss of his life he was sure.
“The necklaces. Would you like them?”
“Oh. Yes, please.”
He handed her the two boxes and she took them, her hand leaving his chest and leaving him feeling a little bereft at the loss of contact. She studied the top one for a moment before pressing the catch and frowning as nothing happened.
“Was it supposed to open?”
“I guess not,” she responded, a confused look on her face. “What made you ask that?”
“It didn’t?”
“No, I mean why aren’t you questioning why it didn’t open?”
“Oh, well you’re a witch right?” She looked at him, shocked, then nodded once.
“How—”
“You left you spell book out by the fireplace.”
“And you looked?” It sounded like she was supposed to be sounding shocked, but failed miserably. Instead she sounded a little bit in awe.
“You could hardly expect me not to, Mia.” He liked the way her name sounded, the feel of it on his lips almost as delectable as kissing her would be. Maybe it was what he should settle for for now. He’d have to do the kissing part later. Maybe after she got a few drinks in her and forgot whatever man she’d used the love potion on.
“So why aren’t you freaked out?” She looked adorable. Confused but intrigued. He liked it. Though that was hardly surprising, he seemed to like everything about her.
“Did it cross your mind I might not be just human too?” He said it slowly, not sure how she was going to react, but when she didn’t say a word, he pushed his sleeve back, revealing the bark bracelet he’d put on today. If anything would convince her then this would.
“You’re a dryad?”
“Yes, how did you know?” he asked, surprised that she’d caught on so quickly. His kind tended towards secretive.
“I’ve heard stories about how dryads take part of their tethers with them when they’re away from it.” She reached out and touched the bark gently, sending shivers through Felix. He hadn’t realised how good that would feel. He wasn’t even sure that she realised what she was doing at all. There was something magical about her touch, especially when light blue sparks began to dance over her fingers and the bark.
“Yes, I’m a dryad.”
“What tree is it?” she asked, looking up at him again with her wide eyes.
“A willow tree.”