CHAPTER15
Something was tickling her cheek.
Still half asleep, Cathy swiped irritably at her face. A vague protest came from behind her at the movement, and the heavy, comfortable weight draped over her waist tightened. She snuggled back, nestling once more into that solid, blissful warmth—
Wait, what?
Cathy’s eyes flew open.
Aodhan was curled around her, the furnace heat of his powerful body pressed against her from shoulder to ankle. He had one arm around her waist, his forearm tucked under her elbow. Her left hand rested on top of his loose, relaxed fingers.
She became aware of rock hard muscle clamped between her thighs. Dear God, she’d wrapped both her legs around one of his. He was probably dreaming that he was wrestling an octopus.
Hot with a combination of mortification and desire, she tried to pull away. Aodhan mumbled something into the back of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His arm flexed, pulling her closer against his body.
Something that was very definitely not a paperback nudged the base of her spine.
It’s an involuntary reaction, Cathy reminded herself firmly, even as a fresh thrill shot through her. The man is asleep, for pity’s sake. And he’s going to be aghast if he wakes up now.
Holding her breath, she slowly eased out from his unconscious embrace. Aodhan grumbled again, but this time he let her go. Breathing a sigh of relief, she slipped out of bed—and all thought of making a stealthy escape fled.
“Aodhan.” She shook him, hard. “Aodhan. Wake up.”
He had his wand out even before he opened his eyes. In a single fluid motion, he was on his feet, thrusting her behind him. Cathy found herself pinned between the wall and Aodhan’s hard shoulder. Since his robe had slipped open, this meant that her face was now mashed against warm, naked skin.
How is it even possible for a man to smell like a sexy library?
“Bzuh?” Aodhan said, and then, rather more coherently, “By all the goddesses. What the actual fuck?”
“Um.” She put a polite distance between them, fighting down a mad impulse to huff his armpit in passing. “I take it this wasn’t meant to happen.”
Aodhan stared around the bedroom. “It most definitely was not.”
Roses surrounded them. Crystalline emerald stems sprouted from the edges of shelves and spilled from the cracks between floorboards, twining across every surface. Hundreds of perfect blooms filled the air with a rich, honeyed scent. The flowers gleamed in the morning sunlight flooding through the windows, every white, velvety petal edged in pure gold.
Aodhan cautiously prodded the nearest rose with the tip of his wand. The flower swayed, a few petals fluttering down.
That must have been what woke me up, Cathy realized. There were more gold-dipped petals scattered across the pillows and rucked blankets. It was like they’d woken up in the honeymoon suite of a really fancy hotel.
“Well.” For the first time since she’d met him, Aodhan looked totally at a loss. “That’s certainly odd.”
Cathy dared to touch one of the glorious roses. The gilt edges looked as bright as actual metal, yet they were as soft as kitten fur. For all the metallic petals and glittering gemstone leaves, it was definitely a real, living plant.
“Could you have done this?” she asked. “In your sleep, I mean. You did transform the oak, after all.”
“With years of dedicated effort and several tons of rare spell ingredients, yes,” Aodhan said, still staring around. “And the oak was already here. Given enough time to devise an appropriate ritual, I might be able to transform an ordinary rose bush into something like this, but I can’t make plants spring out of thin air.”
He glanced at her—and did a double take. Cathy looked round, but there was nothing behind her but books and roses.
“What?” she asked.
He swept his wand down in answer, leaving a trail of glittering motes hanging in the air. They coalesced into a flat, mirrored surface, and Cathy found herself staring at a woman.
A woman with glossy, cascading hair and skin so luminous, she could have stepped straight out of a moisturizer commercial. Her hazel eyes shimmered between forest green and deep copper, the dark pupils ringed with glowing emerald.
Startled, Cathy put up a hand. The woman in the floating mirror copied the movement, the magical tattoo around her wrist glinting. She could have been Cathy’s younger, much prettier sister, if she’d had one.
“You said there would be no physical changes!” she yelped.