“Then let’s talk.”
They were both here, awake, and she’d rather just get it over with. She was glad she couldn’t see his face right now. She could just hear the steady beat of his heart and feel the stroke of his hand down her back. They lay like that for several moments, her cheek pressed against his chest. His chin on her hair. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly.
“When we were in the woods, I told you about how witches can distort your perception of reality. I told you that being inside the circle of their influence can make you feel things you wouldn’t otherwise feel. Do things you wouldn’t otherwise do. Convince you that something is real when it isn’t.”
“I remember.”
“Sometimes you don’t know until you’re out of the influence what was real and what wasn’t. The witch is dead. We’re out of the woods now and I need to know: do you regret what happened?”
“No.”
She didn’t regret any moment they’d spent together. She didn’t regret the sex, which she was pretty sure was what he was really asking about. She didn’t regret this moment now, though she was pretty sure it was going to make it hurt more when they had to part ways.
“Do you?”
“You know that I do,” he said softly, so very gently. “I never should have taken you into the woods in the first place.”
“You wouldn’t have found your men without me,” she reminded him. “It would have taken you longer to find the nest and who knows how much longer the witch would’ve kept Asher alive.”
She looked up at him and he brushed her hair back from her face. “You used magic. The blood spell, the charm. I knew that your fae blood made you vulnerable, but I thought I could protect you. I failed. You got hurt, and you are the very last person in the world I would wish to hurt.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “And the rest? Do you regret that too?”
His fingers tightened in her hair before he forced himself to relax. “I wanted you. I’ve wanted you from the moment I woke up in your bed and saw you watching over me. I thought you were an angel then. So beautiful. Like something conjured from a dream. Then I found out who you were and I thought I could help you, you and your mother. Get you out of Toam, restore something of what you lost, what I caused you to lose. I knew you hated me and I told myself I needed to keep my hands off you. That night in the woods when we were attacked by those men… You were so upset. It felt like taking advantage even though you asked for it.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me.”
He didn’t look like he completely accepted that. He dropped his gaze momentarily to her lips before forcing it up again to her eyes. “I should have had the strength to wait until we were out of the woods. And then later… You were a virgin. That can’t be how you imagined taking your first lover.”
She shrugged. “I thought that once we found your patrol, I would never have the chance to touch you again, and I wanted you. I spent so many years hating you, thinking you were the worst kind of monster, but you weren’t that person at all. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” She pressed her good hand to his chest, over his heart. “And you’re unfairly attractive. Even when I hated you, I could see that. The sex was good.” Amazing. Life-changing. Unforgettable. It was everything that came after that was awful. “I would do it again.”
He groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, there was some emotion in there that she had no name for. It was soft and intense at the same time, hungry in a way that drew an answering ache from deep inside her, tender as a new shoot sprouting up from the dark earth after a long winter.
“I’ve been worried that you’d wake up free of the witch’s influence and decide that you regretted everything that happened.”
She blinked. He’d been worried about that? “I was the one who asked you to touch me first.”
“We were in the Black Woods hunting a witch. I didn’t know.Youcouldn’t have known if it was only the witch’s influence making you feel that way. That’s why I shouldn’t have touched you. You could have been witch-touched. You could have woken up hating me.” He studied her face. “Do you hate me?”
“I just asked you to climb into bed with me.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “I admit it’s given me hope.”
“Would it help if I asked you for more?”
He went very, very still. “You’re wounded.”
“Maybe it will help my recovery process.”
He groaned and slid his hand down her back to her hips. He pulled her in closer. “I swear you’ll be the death of me.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no.”
“It has to be for now.”
That was a shame. They had this enormous bed and a locked door. And she was afraid this dream would be gone in the morning. That the witch hunter would come to his senses any minute now and remember his duty to the Church. Remember that he was a witch hunter and she was a witch’s daughter. Remember that he was a baron and she was…nobody anyone had ever thought worth knowing.
He brushed a kiss to her temple. His thumb caught under her jaw and he tilted her face up. His lips brushed hers lightly at firstand then moved more firmly against her when she moaned. His hand was on her face, her neck. His body shifted to move slightly over her. He tasted her slowly, first with his lips and then his tongue, sliding into her mouth with gentle exploration. It was a soft kiss, sweet and questioning and over much, much too soon.
