I jerked my gaze back to his face. He was watching me, his mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. I inhaled, tasting the hot thick air and savoring each of its flavors: the refreshing froth of mountain water, the sharp tang of unspoken words, the heady perfume of simmering desire.
Irian plunged into the pool. The water opened up and swallowed him without a splash. He dived, deep enough for his form to be a star of white against the dark. Deep enough that I caught my own breath and held it with him.
He surfaced at last, heaving silver ripples onto the bank. He flicked his hair, flinging clear water out in a crystalline gyre. When he looked at me, his eyes were moonlight on deep water.
“Are you coming in, colleen?” He smiled that coiled, perilous smile—the one that melted my bones. “Or are you… lily-livered?”
“Lily-livered?” I choked.
“Yellow-bellied? Milksop?” His teeth gleamed. “Coward?”
I laughed, stepping close enough for the pool to lap greedily at my boots. “I’ve been called many things in my life. But nevercoward.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.” I toed off my boots, unlaced my trousers, and waded in wearing only my shift. The mountain chill was bracing against my heat-flushed skin. A thrill stitched my bones. “Just ask all the brave men I’ve bested in battle.”
I launched myself at Irian without warning. My hand caught hisshoulder; my knees smacked his chest. Then water closed over our heads, shattering the world into ruffled shards of black and silver.
Effervescing moonlight. Opalescent eyes. Sideways trees.
We grappled in an exuberant frenzy. My arms found his neck, dragging him backward as he sputtered and flailed. He lurched sideways, his mass pulling me down. I curled hands around his head and churned above him, then plunged his face beneath the surface. He caught me around the waist, dragging me underwater with him.
For a long moment, all was still in the buoyant embrace of dark water. Shafts of moonlight painted a silent susurrus against the pool floor, illuminating blooms of algae and mollusks curled tight among greening fronds.
We surfaced. I clutched his shoulders, laughing and choking and blinking cascades of water out of my eyes. I pushed a sodden length of dark hair off my face, and then all I saw was him.
I swallowed, suddenly aware of how close we were. My legs were latched so tightly around his waist that his hip bones dug into my thighs. My saturated shift clung to the contours of my body, a chilly sliver between my skin and his radiant heat.
“So which is this?” My voice sounded breathless. “Nostalgia? Or optimism?”
His eyes were molten. “Both, I think.”
“And is it working?” My chest rose and fell in time to his heart drumming madly between my breasts. “Does the doomed man feel alive?”
“Almost.” He dragged his hand along the column of my throat, tipped my chin up toward his. “But not quite.”
His lips parted. A frisson of anticipation sparked in my veins, followed by creeping doubt.
“You pushed me away,” I murmured, my mouth an inch from his. “After the Wild Hunt. You said you didn’t want me.”
“No.” His eyes went iron dark. “What I said was ‘Not like this.’ You were high. You did not know what you were doing. I was notsure you would even remember. And when—” His throat worked. “When you and I join, colleen, I would have you remember it.Allof it.”
His words sent heat unfurling along my spine.When.Notif.
I shifted my weight, hooking my heel in the small of his back and molding myself to the hard planes of his torso. The movement brought my rear fully into his hands. He made a noise low in his throat, and his calloused palms flexed against my skin. I pressed my breasts against his chest and looped my arms around his neck, trailing my fingertips through the soft hair at his nape.
“If not like that,” I whispered, “then maybe like this?”
I pressed my wet lips to his. The kiss tasted of indescribable things—of sleepless nights and hidden desires. My hesitation, ragged but lingering. His want, hard and bright. And cleaving between them, a vining tendril of something keen and clear. Something unnameable thrilling against the back of my throat and leaving me breathless.
Irian pushed us through the water until he found firm footing at the edge of the pool. Water rushed down from my legs, making me feel heavy in his arms. Hot, humid air kissed my skin, nearly as shocking as the water’s chill. Irian’s hands rose from my rear to my waist as he set me onto my feet. He found the hem of my sopping shift, sliding the clinging fabric over my head. The garment slapped down into the grass. He pulled me against him, his skin licking flame-hot against mine. When his growing arousal brushed my stomach, I inhaled sharply.
So that was why he’d been so entertained by my jibe at the top of the hill. It was because I’d been hilariously—hugely—off base.
I bit my lip. Smiled. “Like this?”
I reached down, slipping my hand along the velvet length of him and curling my fingers around his girth. He went rock hard in my palm. He groaned, stomach flexing. He dragged his mouth along my neck, nipping the tender skin below my ear and sending pleasure arrowing sharp toward my center. I stroked him slowly,purposefully. His breath ratcheted in his chest, and his pulse throbbed, uneven against my touch.
