“Do you mean to rip it off me, wench?”
She laughed. “First, I am a goddess, now a wench. Can’t you make up your mind?”
“I’m hoping you are a little of both.” He ripped off his shirt and threw it to the ground.
“In a hurry, Fire Wizard?”
“Aye.” He moved toward her, his motions slow and deliberate. “Tell me, lass, how can I bring you pleasure?”
Hard muscles pressed against soft curves. Rowan’s mouth was hungry as he gathered her in his arms and toppled to the bed of pillows, sinking into the silk and velvet. “You’re wearing too many…clothes,” he said between kisses.
“You always say that,” she said as he unfastened the clasp on her shoulder.
He leaned away. “Do we know each other? I thought…”
She pressed a finger to his lips, weaving a hurried spell, strengthening her glamour. He should see a woman with waist-length golden curls, not waves of raven black, with blue eyes instead of meadow-green ones. She forced a smile and voiced a sad truth. “We do not know each other.”
“But you said…”
She moved close, pressing against him, feeling his heat rise. “Men always want their women to wear as few garments as possible, do they not?” Before he could respond, she kissed him and felt his focus shift as he slipped her silken garments over her head.
His breath deepened as he bent to kiss her nipples. She held his head against her breasts as her own desire flowed through her like warm currents in a tropical sea.
She fumbled to remove his belt and the zipper that contained him. In a blur of speed, he ripped off his jeans and captured her mouth. She laughed. “In a hurry?”
Caught in the throes of Bealtaine’s blood lust, he mumbled a reply. His mouth captured hers as he cupped her breast and pressed her against the silken bed.
She gave in to the desire. His warmth. His heat. She wove her arms around his neck and opened her body to him.
****
Torchlight filtered through the tent, but instead of a rosy glow it cast a pale imitation, like the onset of winter instead of the promise of spring. It reflected her mood. The ache in Morgan’s heart threatened to crush her. Rowan lay beside her, his head turned away. She should go now, while he was still asleep. If he awoke, her resolve might crumble.
Why she believed she could keep her heart protected while she tried to capture Rowan’s was an act of madness. The spells and glamours were working too well…on her.
She started to sit, but Rowan reached out to her. “Where are you going? The night is still young and I’m…” His smile froze. He rubbed a tear from her cheek. “Why are you crying?” He sat up, running both hands through his hair. “What did I do? Did I hurt you? You must think I’m a monster.”
“No! Of course not. You were… It’s just…”
He shook his head. “I am selfish, that’s what I am. Thinking only of my own lust, not your pleasure. It’s been a while since….” His jaw tightened. “No excuses. You deserve better. Look at you. Sitting on a throne of silk. You should be worshiped.”
“Really. It was fine.”
“Fine.” His voice fell an octave lower. “Ouch. I was worse than I thought.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I beg you. Please. Please give me another chance.”
The tenderness in his eyes reminded her so much of the time they’d first met that she melted against him. “I would like that very much.”
He smiled against her lips as he brought her closer. “There’s a legend that when a Wizard finds their soul mate, they will be branded with the sign of their life mate’s Wizard power and need no other romantic love to sustain them.”
Her heart vibrated against her chest as her breath quickened. It was not a legend. It was a dangerous truth. “A romantic notion. More likely a brand materializes if the couple has been particularly passionate. Those brands disappear after Bealtaine. But regarding the question of soulmates, you need not concern yourself. You and I just met. It is unlikely we are soulmates.”
He toyed with a long strand of hair that grazed her shoulder. “You sound as though finding my soulmate is not my desire.”
“There are laws…”
“Laws cannot tell us who we can love.”
“My lord. Please. The Grey Council forbids strong connections between Wizards. If discovered, it is tradition that the female Wizard would be killed.”
