“Devoutly.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. A moment passed. Then he twisted himself so he was floating on his back, looking up at her.
“Forget what I said about not wanting to explain how I discovered what the Organization does.” He grasped both her hands. “Ask me. Ask me, and I’ll tell you.”
She pulled free before her distress could zap them both. “No!”
He stared at her. “No?”
Even she was half-surprised. She’d wanted to know. But now all she could think about was opening Hartgrave like a jar, watching him fly apart and not beingable to put him back together. All the myths in which curiosity ruined everything ran through her head.
“No,” she repeated, more firmly.
It was impossible to tell from his expression whether he was relieved or disappointed. “You would have me without knowing everything about me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Very trusting.”
“I do trust you,” she said, cupping his face. His skin nipped against hers in a not unpleasant way. She’d calmed down quickly. “And I know who you are: a stubborn, aggravating, clever man who risks his life for what he believes in.”
He let out a ragged breath. Then he reached up and kissed her.
Ardent, toe-curling, over too soon.
When he pulled back, she knew she couldn’t wait a minute longer, let alone an arbitrary five more days. “Come to bed with me,” she blurted.
Both their bodies dropped several feet. Too late she recalled that startling a magic-user could be hazardous.
“It’s either that or you have to let me go back to my office tonight,” she said, unable to look directly at him, “because I’m in danger of—”
He grabbed her hand and twisted sharply up, then down, putting their feet on the floor in under two seconds.
“Stay,” he said, towing her to his bed, the real one not made of ephemeral spells. “Dear God, stay.”
Together they made short work of her hat and coat, pausing for another head-spinning kiss. She shruggedoff her shirt while he undid his, popping a button in his haste. The smooth chest and trim waist that came into view was exactly what she had imagined.
She was about to reach out and touch these freshly revealed parts of him when he held up a hand.
“Two rules,” he said. “Don’t think of anything upsetting. And pull away immediately if you feel any pain.”
“You don’t think ...” She trailed off as she realized how wildly her heart was beating—and what that meant. “Adrenaline!”
“No, no, don’t get upset. Just stay focused on what we’re doing”—he gave her a look as tactile as a caress—“and I predict the adrenaline won’t be a problem.”
If itwasa problem, if they had to stop, she would just about jump out of her skin.
He leaned in and unhooked her bra, the brush of his hand against her back leaving an insistent trail of little shocks. “How does that feel?”
“Good,” she said, voice almost failing her.“Oh,” she added as he ran his fingers down her arms, pushing the bra off. Her whole body tingled in sympathetic reaction.
As she reached for him, he turned her around, pressing against her from behind, wrapping one warm arm around her waist. “Can you guess why I’m willing to bet this will end with the right sort of screaming?”
Oh, the image this created. “How do you”—she gasped as he brushed against her stomach with his free hand—“expect me to think at all?”
He chuckled. And then he made it infinitely worse by slipping his hand down the gap between her stomachand her jeans, insinuating into her underwear and pressing intimately against her.
Every nerve ending in her body fired off an insistent plea that he keep doing that—and for the moment he was holding perfectly still.
