“But what?” His tone passed exasperated and went straight into the territory of annoyed.
“It was a bit like offering you a bite of cake without offering you a whole slice.”
Her tone was such he knew she didn’t mean it to be insulting, but his dragon coiled tighter all the same. He stopped, his boots kicking up dust from the packed dirt road, and narrowed his eyes on her. “You’re the one on the diet, Leena. I can have all the cake I want. I can eat it all day, every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If anyone is the cake in this scenario, it’s me!”
Did he really just call himself cake? By the goddess…
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest…”
“If you want to try another bite between here and the temple, you know where to find me,” he added with more swagger than he actually felt.
For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw her eyes widen and her face pale, but then she turned from him and nodded as she walked quickly ahead. “It was a terrible analogy. I’m simply happy that you’ve forgiven me and we can put this all behind us.”
“Good. I’m relieved we are both adults here and have moved beyond this whole situation, because the suns are setting and we’re going to have to make camp soon. And there’s only one tent.”
He had to suppress a laugh when she turned to him, jaw dropping in horror. “Why is there only one tent?”
He snorted. “Because when we left Aeaea, I thought I’d be flying you into Niven. I only packed this thing for me because I was planning to visit our faction of rebels in Rogos before I returned to Aeaea.”
“I can’t stress what a bad idea it is for us to camp here.” She shivered. “But it is getting dark… and cold.”
“Can anything in these woods actually kill a dragon?”
She shrugged. “The tar pits, I suppose.”
“Then let’s find a place far away from those.”
She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, right here on the road is probably our best option, but starting a fire would be a very bad idea. Light attracts wood rats.”
He allowed his pack to slide off his shoulder. “All right, then. No fire and we camp on the road.”
He got to work setting up the tent while she pulled her robes more tightly around her.
Chapter Eight
This was a disaster. Leena helped Colin set up the tent, horrified at how the day had turned out. She’d insisted that he take her back to the temple in order to distance herself from him, and now she’d be forced to sleep in the same very small, very close tent with the dragon. Dear goddess help her. She couldn’t decide if it was a nightmare scenario or a fantasy come true.
“There. Plenty of room for two,” he said, putting the last two pieces together. “Unfortunately, without a fire, we’ll have to settle for a cold dinner. I packed some bread and cheese for the journey back. We can share.”
“Kind of you.” She eyed the small tent in the darkness, then the big dragon standing at its door. Her mouth went dry. Maybe it was a test. If the goddess had put her in this position, perhaps she wanted Leena to prove to herself that the chemistry between her and Colin was a shooting star that simply needed time to burn itself out. It was a tent, not an altar meant for marriage. She held up her canteen and the small bag she used to hold her sundries. “I’ll be right there. I just need a moment.”
He nodded, then disappeared inside. It would take more than a moment to prepare herself for being so close to him again. The night wrapped around her like a shroud, creeping in intensity from a thin, gauzy twilight to an inky blackness that brought with it a chill that seemed to seep through her skin. She prepared herself for bed in the dark and then lingered on the road until a rustle of leaves deep in the woods sent a different kind of chill through her. Steeling her resolve, she slipped into the tent.
And had to force herself not to turn around and walk back out.
The interior glowed with the light of a small lantern, the dragon’s naturally high body temperature warming the small space. He’d stripped down to a pair of shorts and was stretched out along one side of the tent, although his sheer enormity meant that he took up a bit more than half. She hugged the opposite wall before lowering herself to the wool spread he’d folded and placed on her side.
“You can have the blanket. I don’t need it.” He handed her a cloth wrap filled with a corner of a loaf of bread, a large hunk of cheese, and a handful of dried fruit.
“I suppose you don’t get cold,” she said, tearing herself off a bite.
“I feel the cold. It’s just not uncomfortable to me. We dragons are highly resistant to extreme temperatures. I was born near the heart of a volcano.”
She chewed, using the food as an excuse to think of a response that would take her mind off the smooth, taut skin that covered the swells and valleys of his chest and abs. “Elves are born at home,” she squeaked, then coughed and took a sip of water to hide her nerves. “Usually, a midwife comes to the house.”
“Were you born at home?”
Leena stared at the bread in her fingers and frowned. She hated talking about her childhood, but then, he couldn’t know that. “Yes, I was.”
