“Then why draw on face?” She flutters her fingers in the direction of my cheekbones.
I smile. “Because I’m a creature of habit.”
“What is habit?”
“It’s doing the same thing over and over.”
“What habit else you have?”
“My life has always been so centered on fighting and keeping the Sky Kingdom safe that I never really developed other habits.”
“You no read books like Phoebus?”
“Occasionally.”
She tucks her tongue into the corner of her pillowy lips, making my attention taper there. “What do when no fighting or staring at me?”
I choke on a swallow, then cough.
She smiles. “You pink again, Cathal Báeinach.”
I cross my arms.
“Why color change?”
“Because you make my heart beat erratically, which tosses the blood in my veins, causing it to converge in my face”—I nod to my crotch—“and lower.”
She frowns.
I readjust myself.
Her eyes jump to mine. “I make cock pink?”
“You make my cock hard.”
Her forehead scrunches. “I no understand. I thought cock hard when male is cold.”
I balk but then laugh. “The opposite happens when a man’s cold, actually. It retracts.”
“Like tusk!” She says this excitedly, as though the parallel enchants her.
I smile gently. “How did you come to the conclusion of temperature?”
“When I cold, nipples get hard.”
And now I’m staring at her breasts and those pretty beads presently digging into her towel. Fuck. She must be freezing. I push away from the sink, walk into my room, and bang open the door of my closet, coming up with a long-sleeved shirt.
When I turn, she’s standing on the other side of the bed. “Until I find you more appropriate apparel”—I tread toward her—“here.”
“Thank you.” She unwinds the towel, exposing her perfect body to my depraved eyes before garbing herself with my shirt, and Great Mórrígan, I didn’t think she could look sexier than she does naked or in her Shabbin gowns, but the way my shirt clings to her curves…
I refuse to believe that she isn’t my mate. The pull I feel toward her is far too great.
She sits on the edge of the bed and wrings her hair. “I like room.”
“Good, because it’s yours.”
She peeks at me over her shoulder.
