“I suppose I should have seen it coming, with all the sightings we’ve had. I just don’t know what else to do.”
I let my hand rest on his shoulder, holding his gaze.
“Maybe you shouldn’t try to handle everything on your own.”
“What do you think I should have done? What would you do instead?” Reagan asked.
“You would be better off asking Cerridwen or Barracus.”
“I’m asking you.”
I noted the stern set of his jaw, the concentrated intensity in his eyes as he searched for solutions. Part of me warmed to the question.
“I don’t think I would do anything differently,” I said quietly. “Talk to the battle mages. Search the area. Speak with his family, if they want to, and understand if they don’t. I’d like to think I would use my anger and guilt where it could do some good. Aiming it at those threats and trying not to let it become a hindrance.” My hand slid to his chest, just over the heartstone. “You’re giving everything, Caed. You’re giving your best.”
His expression softened, and a deep exhale left him.
I dipped my hand into the water, scrubbing at the bloodstain on his thigh. My cheeks warmed as I took in his submerged form. The water was clear enough to reveal the lines of muscle along his legs and hips. I scrubbed higher, reaching the uppermost part of his thigh, and under the water, his body responded to my touch.
Reagan’s hands gripped the edges of the tub, knuckles whitening. I didn’t miss the subtle shift in his breathing. When I looked up, his gaze held mine. Steady and impossibly intense.
“I must be a real bastard, because I don’t even feel bad about wanting to take you right now.” His voice was sad and thick.
I inhaled quietly. “You shouldn’t feel bad about that.”
Maybe neither of us should feel bad about this. He was already drowning in so much remorse. It wasn’t the time, yet if there were any way to brush away that expression, I would take it. Being this close felt like a rare chance to glimpse the emotions he kept hidden.
Dropping the soap, I rose to my feet and pulled the hem of my dress over my head, letting it fall to the floor.
Reagan was frozen in the tub, but his eyes still devoured my body as I removed the last of my clothing. His gaze roamed and roamed until it stopped, brows furrowing.
He stared right at my upper thigh, seeing a perfect scar of the Algiz rune carved into my flesh. For a moment, he looked disoriented, hesitating, and I worried this was a bad idea. I’d forgotten about the scar.
But then he stretched one hand toward me, his voice a quiet command. “Come here.”
I took his hand and stepped into the tub, lowering myself, my knees settling on either side of his thighs. His eyes skimmed over all my bare skin, his thumb brushing over the scar. The tips of my breasts tingled.
There was no judgement as he looked at me.
“Is it for protection?” he murmured, his thumb still stroking the rune.
I nodded, catching a muscle twitching in his jaw. This might have been the worst moment for him to see it.
My hand trailed to his length. Reagan shuddered.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I said, sliding my hands around him.
“You are,” he breathed, tucking my hair behind my shoulders, his head lowering to place a kiss in the crook of my neck, “formidable. And wild. And I want you desperately.”
He tugged me further into his lap until I settled over the hardest part of him. He groaned into my mouth, his hands roaming my body with reverent touches, as if I were his harbour and he wanted nothing more than to anchor himself to me.
Here, in the soothing, tepid water, a breath of air seemed to fill his lungs.
It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was something good to cling to.
I raised my hips, and Reagan moved with me, guiding us together. He held me close, his mouth kissing between my breasts as he brought me down. I gasped as he filled me.
Reagan paused, meeting my gaze as his hands steadied my waist, giving me time to adjust. His breath was warm as he kissed my damp skin.
