Chapter 14
Despite his best intentions, thoughts of what Tamsin would be doing now kept stealing into Cuan’s mind.
The soft whisper of fabric over her earth-brown skin. The lap of water around her toes as she tested the water. The gentle ripples caressing her soft thighs, lapping higher…
Cuan gritted his teeth, and tried very hard to think about something else. Anything else.
How to hunt down the manticore that had been threatening the southern wood-sidhe enclaves. The likelihood of seelie raiders crossing the border this moon. Cheese. Angus—
Angus?
The dog’s distinctive yap echoed down the gully. Cuan started, his scimitars springing into his hands. He’d barely taken three strides down the path when Angus appeared like a fuzzy orange fireball, shrieking as though the entire Wild Hunt was on his tail.
“Tamsin,” Cuan breathed.
He broke into a run, shifting into wolf form for extra speed. Angus tagged at his heels, tiny legs a blur, gamely attempting to keep up with his much larger stride.
A scent tickled Cuan’s sensitive nose, whispering under the stronger wafts of wet stone and lichen. Not the chalky smells of the mineral-infused hot springs, but something greener, sharper, like a mountain brook cutting through mossy banks.
He knew that scent.
Cuan doubled his pace, leaving Angus in his dust. Even as he burst into the steam-filled springs, he was leaping, stretching every muscle to breaking point.
There was no time to be gentle, not with Tamsin’s fingertips nearly brushing the water horse’s rippling hide. Cuan crashed into her at top speed, knocking her away. They both fell into the spring with an almighty splash, water closing over their heads.
Cuan shifted back into man form, dragging Tamsin to the surface. She clung to him, gasping, water streaming down her bare shoulders.
“Aw.” The water horse flicked its tail in an equine pout. “Spoilsport.”
Cuan thrust Tamsin behind him, summoning a sword. The horse looked at it, then at him, with a really? kind of expression.
“You do appreciate that I’m made of water, right?” The horse thrust out its head, offering him its throat. “I mean, if it will make you feel better, go ahead. Stick it in. Swish it about a bit. Get me all stirred up.”
With a frustrated snarl, Cuan banished his sword, since it truly couldn’t do him any good. He kept his own body in front of Tamsin, shielding her from view.
“Neifion,” he growled. “I swear by the Shining Ones, if you try that again I shall pour you into an iron pot and boil you.”
“Cuan,” Tamsin gasped, still clutching his arm as she was drowning. “What—what is that thing?”
“Thing?” The water horse arched its neck, looking offended. “Thing? Hmph. See if I offer to take you for a nice ride again.”
“His name’s Neifion,” Cuan said to Tamsin. “He’s a kelpie. His kind enthrall people. They like to entice the unwary into mounting them.”
Neifion wiggled his ears suggestively, like eyebrows. “In more ways than one.”
“It had me completely under its spell.” Tamsin’s voice went high and tight, trembling on the verge of shock. “If, if Angus hadn’t barked, if you hadn’t come—”
“Hush.” Cuan turned quickly, catching her in his arms. He held her tight against his chest, trying very hard to ignore the smooth warmth of her bare skin under his palms. “You are fine. All is well. Nothing happened.”
Neifion’s watery body shimmered, shrinking. He solidified into his man form, tall and handsome, dressed in leggings and a fine silk shirt that clung to his damp chest. As ever, a few tendrils of waterweed twined in his blue-green hair, betraying his true nature. The silver chain of his bridle winked around his neck.
“Aw, don’t cry, human lady.” For once, the kelpie seemed genuinely chagrined. “Really, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“He truly wouldn’t have harmed you,” Cuan said to Tamsin. “Just raced around with you for a bit, until he got bored and threw you off his back.”
“Don’t worry, I’d have made sure you had a soft landing.” Neifion flashed a wicked grin. “Very soft. And deep. And smelly.”
Cuan ignored this, concentrating on rubbing Tamsin’s back in gentle, soothing circles. “I’m sorry. If I’d known he was in the area, I would never have left you alone. But you were never in any real danger. Kelpies are more of a pest than anything else.”