better?”
Piecrust promise, that’s what Mary Poppins called it: easily made, easily broken. If she was going to be honest with herself, all Ro wanted to do was curl into bed and be held, comforted and kissed by that man. Every time she had a second to think, it was about him. Every time they touched, a heat surged through her body and pulled at something low in her belly. Every gaze she caught from him made her burn. His voice was deep, thick and strong, and it made her feel like a puddle of senseless longing. He was fascinating, glorious, sexy as hell… and completely out of her league.
Fuck it all, he was too good for her and she knew it.
Saying goodnight, Rowan shut the door, stripped out of her clothes, and realizing she didn’t pack a stupid set of pajamas, crawled into the cushy bed in her birthday suit. A small scratching noise came from the door and Rowan knew just who it would be. Wrapping a cream colored blanket around her body (in case she was wrong) she opened the door and let the fox in. “I thought you were nocturnal?” Oh well, in the bed she climbed, Fintan by her feet, and fell asleep almost instantly. She hoped she’d dream of the man down the hall tonight, and not the shadow who haunted her.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Rowan’s promise not to kiss him again did not make Devlin feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse. Perhaps the spark he felt was only his to feel. She must’ve not felt a thing or she’d have made no such vow. He’d masked his hurt feelings with a blank face, bowed goodnight to her, turned on his heels, and headed down the hall to his own lonely room.
Devlin paced his room like an animal in a cage. Och, this won’t do. He felt restless and foolish. He was acting like a rutting beast with no sense left in him at all. The woman was a complete wonder to him. To think that she’s been seeing these dark creatures for so long, with no one to protect her, it was a miracle she hadn’t snapped already. And to learn that Lorcan has been so close to her, all these years, and she didn’t feel any fear towards the bastard was boldness beyond reason. Aye, the woman was made of stern stuff. The image of her ready to fight in the woods, the trees and bushes as the backdrop, a wee blade in her hand and challenge in her eyes. She was a hellcat to be sure.
And didn’t that just turn him on more.
Fintan had decided to crash with Rowan for the night, which made Devlin happy. Best have a set of eyes on the wee lass at all times from now on. Spells were cast around the house for protection, but at this rate there was no telling what Lorcan could or could not do with his connection to Rowan. In truth, Devlin felt scared for her. And worrying about someone other than himself wasn’t an act he was used to. Part of him liked the thought of protecting someone as precious as she, but the other part of him saw it as pure distraction. A weakness that could get them all killed.
Lying back in his bed, naked as a bairn, he concentrated on her face and then he saw her. There she was, lying in the large bed, all curled like a vixen herself. She’d already fallen asleep, that was good. She was completely drained after such a long and taxing day. But she’d not complained once about it. Taking a closer look, Devlin saw she was on her side, sheets tucked around her small frame, shoulder and back bare to the moonlight beaming in through the windows, one arm tucked up under her pillow, the other resting on her waist. Soft twin mounds rose up and down with every breath the lass took. Ballocks, the woman was naked! Fintan shook his head fiercely, blurring Devlin’s vision, and then the sight was gone.
The sly fox was right; Devlin had no right to be staring at her now. Bloody fox. Gruffing and cursing under his breath, the Druid pounded his pillow into flattened submission and tried his best to think of anything other than what was at the end of the hall. He had
Piecrust promise, that’s what Mary Poppins called it: easily made, easily broken. If she was going to be honest with herself, all Ro wanted to do was curl into bed and be held, comforted and kissed by that man. Every time she had a second to think, it was about him. Every time they touched, a heat surged through her body and pulled at something low in her belly. Every gaze she caught from him made her burn. His voice was deep, thick and strong, and it made her feel like a puddle of senseless longing. He was fascinating, glorious, sexy as hell… and completely out of her league.
Fuck it all, he was too good for her and she knew it.
Saying goodnight, Rowan shut the door, stripped out of her clothes, and realizing she didn’t pack a stupid set of pajamas, crawled into the cushy bed in her birthday suit. A small scratching noise came from the door and Rowan knew just who it would be. Wrapping a cream colored blanket around her body (in case she was wrong) she opened the door and let the fox in. “I thought you were nocturnal?” Oh well, in the bed she climbed, Fintan by her feet, and fell asleep almost instantly. She hoped she’d dream of the man down the hall tonight, and not the shadow who haunted her.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Rowan’s promise not to kiss him again did not make Devlin feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse. Perhaps the spark he felt was only his to feel. She must’ve not felt a thing or she’d have made no such vow. He’d masked his hurt feelings with a blank face, bowed goodnight to her, turned on his heels, and headed down the hall to his own lonely room.
Devlin paced his room like an animal in a cage. Och, this won’t do. He felt restless and foolish. He was acting like a rutting beast with no sense left in him at all. The woman was a complete wonder to him. To think that she’s been seeing these dark creatures for so long, with no one to protect her, it was a miracle she hadn’t snapped already. And to learn that Lorcan has been so close to her, all these years, and she didn’t feel any fear towards the bastard was boldness beyond reason. Aye, the woman was made of stern stuff. The image of her ready to fight in the woods, the trees and bushes as the backdrop, a wee blade in her hand and challenge in her eyes. She was a hellcat to be sure.
And didn’t that just turn him on more.
Fintan had decided to crash with Rowan for the night, which made Devlin happy. Best have a set of eyes on the wee lass at all times from now on. Spells were cast around the house for protection, but at this rate there was no telling what Lorcan could or could not do with his connection to Rowan. In truth, Devlin felt scared for her. And worrying about someone other than himself wasn’t an act he was used to. Part of him liked the thought of protecting someone as precious as she, but the other part of him saw it as pure distraction. A weakness that could get them all killed.
Lying back in his bed, naked as a bairn, he concentrated on her face and then he saw her. There she was, lying in the large bed, all curled like a vixen herself. She’d already fallen asleep, that was good. She was completely drained after such a long and taxing day. But she’d not complained once about it. Taking a closer look, Devlin saw she was on her side, sheets tucked around her small frame, shoulder and back bare to the moonlight beaming in through the windows, one arm tucked up under her pillow, the other resting on her waist. Soft twin mounds rose up and down with every breath the lass took. Ballocks, the woman was naked! Fintan shook his head fiercely, blurring Devlin’s vision, and then the sight was gone.
The sly fox was right; Devlin had no right to be staring at her now. Bloody fox. Gruffing and cursing under his breath, the Druid pounded his pillow into flattened submission and tried his best to think of anything other than what was at the end of the hall. He had
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