He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck, ignoring the blood, searching for the taste of her flesh. “You let me?—”
Burn, he was going to say, but his whisper was interrupted by the click of the lock. He closed his eyes and took her scent deep into his lungs for fear of never knowing another chance to do so. Then he looked up, while he still hovered over her, like a predator interrupted mid-meal.
Icarus stood against the open gate as if prepared to defend it from being closed again, his chin held high, his eyes on the ceiling. Gaspar thought him both foolish and stout of heart…and far too loyal to the man he used to be.
The little man cleared his throat.“Mi perdoni,”he said in a small voice, his eyes never lowering.
“No, please.” Her whisper was warm against his neck. “Take me with you.”
Gaspar knew that if he carried the woman out of the tower, he’d continue on to his bedchamber. He was that untrustworthy at the moment, but could not find the words to explain.
She kissed him again, to plead her case. It might have been one of the most difficult things he’d done in all his years, but finally, he turned his lips away and gasped for breath.
“I am not the man who brought you here, Isobelle. You have changed me to my soul, truly. But you must give me time to consider what this new man must do.”
He laid his hand gently against her cheek and waited for her complete attention. Finally, she raised her gaze from his lips.
“When I attended the commencement ceremony for the Regatta, I so easily slipped back into that other man, and it frightened me. Will I always do so? I am a man torn in twain. One very much alive. One very much…apart. You brought me to life, Isobelle. I must be certain I will yet live if you are no longer within my reach. Do you understand?”
“Ye are too quick to worry, my love. Ye returned to yer duty and felt familiar with it, ‘tis all. Ye’re the same man now as the one before ye left, are ye not?”
“I am. But the moment I returned to the patriarch’s presence, I saw you differently.” He hung his head, ashamed. But he would not keep the truth from her. “I thought of you as a temptress come to ruin me. When I returned, I tried to stay away from you until I knew what to do with you.”
She tried to climb from his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“Don’t you see? I left this island and I became dead again. One touch from your hand and my foolishness dissolved. My heart beat again.” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest. “You see? The man lives.” He shook his head sadly. “But does the dragon merely sleep?”
Her struggles resumed, so he set her off his lap. He refused to release her hand.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll tell ye true, I am not flattered to be thought a temptress.”
“I do not?—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “You must release me, Gaspar. Send the temptations away and slay this dragon if that is what you truly wish. And if the man survives, find me.”
Gaspar released her hand and stood. He paced to the window and back, looking for an argument to offer, but he found nothing. Removing her from his island, however, felt as foolish as removing his heart from his breast. She could not expect it of him!
He stomped to the gate and Icarus scurried out of his way. He ignored her gasp as he stepped out of the cell and pulled the gate closed again.
“I will consider it, Isobelle. But I must have time to examine how much of me is the man, and how much the dragon. And if I can survive the separation…” He locked the gate and turned away. This time, walking down the steps was no easier than walking into a dark, incoming tide.
Her voice trailed him into the stairwell.
“Ye only use the beast to excuse yerself, Gaspar. Dinna offer me hope when ye’ll only recant. I know ye now. Through and through. I will not be fooled again…Dragon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Icarus was so distracted by the excitement on the island that he’d rowed the small boat off course three times, causing him to arrive home later than usual. His sister would be sufficiently displeased he was tempted to find another place to sleep for the night. He could tell the woman the dragon had detained him until morning.
He stared at his sister’s door while he weighed the possibility of her believing his tale, that the dragon would allow him to go home in the morning, only to break his fast and return again.
Not likely at all.
He steeled himself and headed for the door, but a giant shadow stepped in front of him, barring the way. The man was so large in fact, he might well be his master, so he swallowed his surprise, stepped back, and waited for the shadow to speak. But after his gaze took in the length of the silhouette from boots to head, he concluded this man could not be his master. Not even God’s Dragon stood so tall.
“Easy, Icarus, m’ friend. I’ll not harm ye.” He spoke the same language as the woman, and even to his simple mind, Icarus knew that could be no coincidence.“Parlez Francais?”
Icarus nodded. “I speak a little,” he said in clumsy French.
