scoffed. “That hasn’t happened since I was a fledging.”
“Ah, the good old days,” Wallaig said, fierce expression giving way to longing. “Such wonderful memories.”
Eyes twinkling, Tydrin winked at her. Ivy smiled against her will. Gosh darn it all. How did he do that to her? Despite her nerves—and his relentless pace—she found him way too charming. Lethal in his appeal. So frigging handsome, Ivy grumbled in resignation and gave up the fight. It was going to be all right. Perfectly okay. Tydrin had everything under control—her, himself, Wallaig and his nasty killer vibe too. No reason to worry. Or turn tail and run. No matter how uneasy Wallaig made her, she trusted Tydrin to keep her safe and know who presented a threat to her. And Wallaig? No matter how fierce the guy looked, he didn’t make the cut.
The realization struck like a lightning bolt.
Sparks flew inside her head as the truth zapped her. Holy smokes. She trusted Tydrin. She’d known she liked him—might even love him—but trust? Real let-it-all-go trust ? Shock seeped into her veins. Ivy drew a shallow breath. Unprecedented. Beyond strange. When the hell had that happened? At her rescue at the cemetery? During the crazy midnight flight? After waking in his arms? She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Yup. Tick all those boxes. Each one applied. She wouldn’t have made love with him otherwise, so…
No more doubts.
Set them all aside.
Time to hand Tydrin the reins and allow him to lead.
Stopping in front of his friend, Tydrin drew her against his side. “Wallaig, meet Ivy. Ivy meet the arsehole I’ve the misfortune tae call comrade.”
Angling his chin, Wallaig nodded at her. Hazel eyes bore into hers and—
Ivy frowned. Huh. That was weird, and his eyes all wrong. Mere pinpoints, his pupils narrowed into vertical slits, slicing through golden-brown. A moment passed. Understanding struck. She opened her mouth before her brain told her to shut up. “You’re blind.”
Red brows popped up in surprise. “Observant, aren’t you, little one.”
Ivy cringed. Oh shit. Stupid, stupid mouth. Hurrah for social awkwardness. And interminable pauses. She’d done it again, speaking without first allowing her brain to vet the contents. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned—”
“Why not?” Wallaig shrugged. Muscles reacted to the shift, bunching under his T-shirt and over wide shoulders to ripple down his biceps. “’Tis naught more than the truth. I’d rather have your honesty than the alternative.”
“The alternative?” Ivy asked, parroting him like an idiot.
“You pussy-footing around the fact I cannae see. Bugs the shite out of me when people do that.” He studied her face, his regard intense, giving Ivy the impression he could actually see her, then glanced at Tydrin. “With your permission.”
“Make it quick, Wallaig,” Tydrin said, moving behind her. His heat pressed against her back, warming her through as he set his hands on her waist. “I will never again permit you tae touch her.”
“Understood.”
Gaze bouncing between the two men, Ivy tensed. “What—”
“Be still, little one,” Wallaig said, stepping within arm’s reach. “And know I will not hurt you. I wish to see you, naught more.”
See her. What in God’s name did that mean?
The question buffeted her mind. Wallaig raised his hands. With a full body flinch, Ivy tried to back away. Acting like a wall at her back, Tydrin tightened his grip and stopped her retreat. He murmured a reassurance. His friend touched her face. A wide palm found her jaw, held her still, then drifted up to explore her features. Butterfly touches across her cheekbones and down her nose. Calloused fingertips following the curves of her eyebrows. A gentle swipe against the thick fringe of eyelashes. Ivy closed her eyes, struggling to be patient. She didn’t like his hands on her. She didn’t want to be touched by
“Ah, the good old days,” Wallaig said, fierce expression giving way to longing. “Such wonderful memories.”
Eyes twinkling, Tydrin winked at her. Ivy smiled against her will. Gosh darn it all. How did he do that to her? Despite her nerves—and his relentless pace—she found him way too charming. Lethal in his appeal. So frigging handsome, Ivy grumbled in resignation and gave up the fight. It was going to be all right. Perfectly okay. Tydrin had everything under control—her, himself, Wallaig and his nasty killer vibe too. No reason to worry. Or turn tail and run. No matter how uneasy Wallaig made her, she trusted Tydrin to keep her safe and know who presented a threat to her. And Wallaig? No matter how fierce the guy looked, he didn’t make the cut.
The realization struck like a lightning bolt.
Sparks flew inside her head as the truth zapped her. Holy smokes. She trusted Tydrin. She’d known she liked him—might even love him—but trust? Real let-it-all-go trust ? Shock seeped into her veins. Ivy drew a shallow breath. Unprecedented. Beyond strange. When the hell had that happened? At her rescue at the cemetery? During the crazy midnight flight? After waking in his arms? She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Yup. Tick all those boxes. Each one applied. She wouldn’t have made love with him otherwise, so…
No more doubts.
Set them all aside.
Time to hand Tydrin the reins and allow him to lead.
Stopping in front of his friend, Tydrin drew her against his side. “Wallaig, meet Ivy. Ivy meet the arsehole I’ve the misfortune tae call comrade.”
Angling his chin, Wallaig nodded at her. Hazel eyes bore into hers and—
Ivy frowned. Huh. That was weird, and his eyes all wrong. Mere pinpoints, his pupils narrowed into vertical slits, slicing through golden-brown. A moment passed. Understanding struck. She opened her mouth before her brain told her to shut up. “You’re blind.”
Red brows popped up in surprise. “Observant, aren’t you, little one.”
Ivy cringed. Oh shit. Stupid, stupid mouth. Hurrah for social awkwardness. And interminable pauses. She’d done it again, speaking without first allowing her brain to vet the contents. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned—”
“Why not?” Wallaig shrugged. Muscles reacted to the shift, bunching under his T-shirt and over wide shoulders to ripple down his biceps. “’Tis naught more than the truth. I’d rather have your honesty than the alternative.”
“The alternative?” Ivy asked, parroting him like an idiot.
“You pussy-footing around the fact I cannae see. Bugs the shite out of me when people do that.” He studied her face, his regard intense, giving Ivy the impression he could actually see her, then glanced at Tydrin. “With your permission.”
“Make it quick, Wallaig,” Tydrin said, moving behind her. His heat pressed against her back, warming her through as he set his hands on her waist. “I will never again permit you tae touch her.”
“Understood.”
Gaze bouncing between the two men, Ivy tensed. “What—”
“Be still, little one,” Wallaig said, stepping within arm’s reach. “And know I will not hurt you. I wish to see you, naught more.”
See her. What in God’s name did that mean?
The question buffeted her mind. Wallaig raised his hands. With a full body flinch, Ivy tried to back away. Acting like a wall at her back, Tydrin tightened his grip and stopped her retreat. He murmured a reassurance. His friend touched her face. A wide palm found her jaw, held her still, then drifted up to explore her features. Butterfly touches across her cheekbones and down her nose. Calloused fingertips following the curves of her eyebrows. A gentle swipe against the thick fringe of eyelashes. Ivy closed her eyes, struggling to be patient. She didn’t like his hands on her. She didn’t want to be touched by
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