"I won't let you get hurt because of me," Cosimo said, voice dropping to a growl.
"I'm not hurt. I'm a little dazed, but it's only because I didn't expect to have visions so clear," Marcella said, a little too breathily. "You can let me up. I will be fine."
Cosimo's hands tightened, the dragon shining in his eyes. "Don't touch the statue again. We will put it in a bag to take with us."
"Agreed. Twice in one day would be too much," she said and swallowed hard. He wasn't letting her go, and she wasn't trying to move away.
Cosimo brushed his thumb over her jaw and cheek again. "Let's move slow."
Marcella wasn't sure if he meant physically moving or whatever this thing was that drew them together like magnets. She didn't ask for specifics, not wanting the answer, and she nodded.
Cosimo stood up slowly, lifting her with him as if she weighed nothing. He set her back on her feet and waited to see if she was steady before letting her go.
Marcella looked at Minerva, and the goddess seemed to be grinning at her. "Let's find that bag and go and see what Bridget is up to."
She needed to make sure she wasn't alone with Cosimo because if she had enough moments like that, she was bound to throw all common sense to the wind and kiss him. She touched the amulets around her neck and wondered if she needed protecting from him after all.
13
Cosimo escorted Marcella back down the stairs and toward the library. His hand kept trying to hover near her lower back in case she had another dizzy spell. He shouldn't have let her touch the damn statue.
You say that like you could have stopped her.
The moment Marcella had begun to fall, panic had iced over him. His dragon had been nearly as frantic at the thought she might be hurt.
Marcella wasn't concerned that the memories contained in the statue had overwhelmed her, but Cosimo's heart rate still wasn't back to its normal pace.
Despite the horrible moment, Cosimo couldn't help but notice how soft and solid she had felt in his arms. His treacherous body was burning up with a need he didn't know how to handle. He had forgotten what it was like to desire someone to distraction.
I am too old for this nonsense, he tried to tell himself unsuccessfully.
A few years after Lisa's death, during his dating attempts, he had tried to do one-night stands. It had just left him feelinghollow and unfulfilled. There had been guilt, too, for a time, as if he were betraying his wife's memory.
Cosimo had known even then that it was ridiculous to feel guilty. Lisa wouldn't have wanted him to be alone. She had said as much over the years, always in a gentle kind of jest, when they were talking about 'if anything happened to me' scenarios.
Lisa had foresight magic, but she had never mentioned seeing her own death. After Valentine's recent confession that he had a premonition of her accident, Cosimo had begun to wonder if she had maybe seen it too. It wasn't a good thought to focus on, so he had done his best to push it aside.
"Are you going to be this moody for the rest of the day?" Marcella asked, pulling him out of his own spiraling thoughts.
"I shouldn't have let you touch that damned thing," he replied.
Marcella patted the tote bag that hung over her shoulder. "I was the best person to touch it. Minerva here has come from my lands."
"I promised I wouldn't let you get hurt," Cosimo argued.
Marcella stopped in the hall and put her hands on her hips, drawing attention to the delicious flare of them.
"Cosimo, look at me. I am fine. Thank you for making sure I didn't hit my head when I fell. I will be more careful next time I touch it." She went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You are too pretty to worry this much about ridiculous things,amico."
She turned around and walked into the library, leaving him touching his burning cheek, all his thoughts scrambled. Feminine laughter echoed through the stacks, jolting him out of his daze, and he hurried after her.
Bridget had caught Marcella before she had found what they had spent the previous day putting together.
"Why can't I look at it yet?" she asked.
"Because I want Cosimo here to see your face," Bridget argued.
"Cosimo has had enough of my face today," Marcella argued.
