“That’s the way it works.”
“It? What exactly is it?”
Obsidian set his fork down. “It’s the Fates’ way of ensuring two souls remain together once they’ve found each other.”
The Fates?
Wait. “Souls? As in soul mates?”
He nodded.
“Are you saying I’m your soul mate?” She couldn’t help it, she laughed. It sounded ridiculous.
“Yes.” There wasn’t an ounce of amusement in his tone.
“You’re serious.” A warmth trickled in her veins, though she wasn’t sure why.
“Deadly.”
Praying he would continue, Penelope didn’t look away, took a long swallow of juice. “And how long does it last? That coldness?”
The silence she got in response was deafening. The man was obviously not eager to reveal this phenomenon.
“Look, Obsidian—”
He leaned forward, his steady gaze settling on her face. “Let’s enjoy tonight, Penelope. There’s plenty of time for explanations and long, drawn-out stories. Enough to last ten lifetimes. And I’m more than willing to share everything with you, but not tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I question everything. I need to know. It’s in my nature to want to know how deep the pool is before I take the plunge.”
He swallowed hard.
Just when she thought he was going to reluctantly launch into details, music sounded from the speakers mounted in the overhead cover. A soft, romantic instrumental.
Very convenient.
“Dance with me?” Obsidian pushed to his feet, held out his hand.
Sighing her disappointment at his avoidance of her questions, Penelope stood when he pulled out her chair.
Of course, it passed quickly. The moment he drew her to him, her curiosity faded, her questions disappearing. The way one long, strong arm slid around her, the other bending so she could take his hand as he moved with ease and grace, Penelope was lost to him once again. The music, the lights glittering all around them, that sensual scent that was uniquely Obsidian … it consumed her, made her feel as though she was in her very own fairy tale.
“You did that, didn’t you? Turned the music on?”
“Yes.”
“With your mind?”
“Yes.”
Startled by his admission, Penelope stared up at him, her breath caught in her throat.
“You don’t have to fear me, Penelope.”
“I don’t. I just… I don’t know who you are,” she whispered. “I don’t knowwhatyou are.”
The vulnerability in his gaze shocked her.
“It doesn’t matter,” she assured him. “This … being with you … it feels perfect, Obsidian.”
