“You must trust this,” he said, sliding his hand into my bra, his hand warm on my breast.
“My boobs might like you a lot, but in general they’re not very insightful about people,” I said, sniffling.
“I meant you must trust your heart, which you well know. Being a Dark One or his Beloved does not mean we suddenly possess all knowledge there is to know, Pia. We cannot see the future any more than we know the truth that is in others’ hearts. Alec has served me as a friend for more than three hundred years, and although his actions confuse me, I am not convinced that he has become a traitor.”
I thought about this for a moment, idly kissing his Adam’s apple. “Your brother and cousin didn’t show any faith in you.”
“They must follow their hearts as well,” he said simply, hunger rising swiftly in him as I switched to nibbling his earlobe. “Beloved, if you start that now, we will never get to the Blue Lagoon, and I would very much like for you to see it.”
I sighed and released the earlobe I was sucking. “What are we going to do about Alec?”
He stood up, letting me slide down his body. “Rest first; then we will discuss plans.” He put a finger over my lips as I was about to protest. “Be assured we will take action.”
That was all I got out of him. He refused to talk more about Alec, repeating that I was exhausted and needed some rest and relaxation. So it was that a short time later I trotted down the hotel steps and stared with absolute surprise at the sight that met my eyes. “I don’t believe it. Have we entered some sort of a warp where time is standing still?”
Magda stood next to me and stared at where I was pointing. “Good Lord. I think we have.”
“What’s going on?” Raymond asked, coming up behind us, fussing with a camera. He looked up, a delighted smile blossoming on his face. “Is it another holiday?”
“I don’t know, but look! Dancing! Ooh, Ray! Let’s join!”
Raymond shot me a quasi-apologetic look as Magda grabbed his hand and hauled him off into the throng before us. The strains of “Unchained Melody” filled the soft summer evening air, reminding me of our first night in the nearby town of Dalkafjordhur. There’d been dancing the last time I was there, too.
“I just had a phone call from a friend,” Kristoff said as he emerged from the hotel. “He said that there has been a sudden increase of activity in the reaper headquarters in Los Angeles.”
“Sounds like something is definitely up. Extra security around Alec, do you think?”
He shrugged and tucked his cell phone away in the inner pocket of the soft leather jacket that I remembered him wearing the first time I’d seen him. “Possibly, but that assumes Alec is being held captive. At this point, we don’t have any solid proof either way.”
“But it does give credence to what Rick said about him being there. I guess we’ll be California bound, then. Although I wish we could stay here to search for the Ilargi who has Ulfur.”
“As the necromancer told you, he didn’t have to be physically near in order to summon a lich under his control.”
“I know.” My shoulders slumped.
“I’ve told you that we will find him,” Kristoff said, his gaze slightly critical as he examined me. “Later, after you’ve had a rest.”
“We all could do with a break,” I said, shaking off the glum mood. Kristoff meant what he had said-he would help me find Ulfur and his soul, so there was no use in giving in to self-pity again.
As the music ended and people applauded, a memory flitted across my mind, the memory of him standing in the small square, cloaked in the shadows from a nearby building as he talked with Alec. For a moment, I was intensely glad that fate had thrown him my way.
“You look very pretty,” he said out of the blue.
“It’s the dress. Magda insisted I buy it before we left for Vienna. She said it was flirty and would make you want to ravish me on the spot. Does it?”
He looked at me again, longer this time, his gaze lingering on the swell of my breasts as they threatened to overflow the fitted bodice of the simple yet elegant white dress. His gaze continued downward, stopping briefly on my hips, before proceeding down to the full skirt that flared out in graceful folds, ending just slightly below my knees. Kicky summer sandals and delicate shell pink toenail polish completed the ensemble. I held my breath for some reason, wanting him to find me sexy, yet unwilling for him to think I’d dressed with such care just to meet his approval.
No, it doesn’t make me want to ravish you.
My heart dropped to the very same shell pink toenails.
It makes me want to worship you passionately, starting at your delectable toes and moving upward along legs that are both feminine and enticing to thighs that leave me feeling weak with need. It makes me want to take your essence into me. It makes the hunger rise in me until I’m nearly mad with desire. “Ravish” implies an impersonal act of sex. So ravish? No. Possess and consume and lose myself in you? Absolutely.
My heart, back in its accustomed place, melted into a great big puddle as I leaned into Kristoff, my lips teasing his. “I’m falling in love with you, you idiot man. You can’t say things like that to me and not expect me to swoon entirely.”
Passion flared to life in the depths of his lovely eyes. He took my arm, and I thought he was going to kiss me until he pulled me after him, stopping at the edge of the bodies moving in time to the music. I caught a glimpse of a woman with a white veil, and a couple of men in tuxedoes, before Kristoff twirled me around and pulled me up into a close embrace, his hands on my hips.
“I didn’t think you noticed the party,” I said, giggling a little as the music stopped again, ending our dance before it even got started.
“I may be distracted, but I’m not blind,” he answered, looking over the crowd to the band as they started in with a number from Dirty Dancing . Kristoff cocked an eyebrow as his gaze returned to me. Do you dance?
Not very well. But I love this song, and I’ve seen the movie about a hundred times.
A rare smile flirted with the corners of his mouth as he took my hand in his, putting the other on my waist.
You don’t think you’re going to . . . I stopped, suddenly breathless as he spun me away, pulling me back immediately, only to bend me backward. His mouth was hot on my chest for a moment before he pulled me back and started moving with the song, guiding me into dance moves that I never in a million years thought I could do.
Dear God, I’m dancing! I couldn’t help but laugh . I never dance! Not like this!
You never had me to dance with, he answered, sending me into another twirl. Part of me felt self-conscious and clumsy, well aware that I lacked grace and coordination, but the other part of me, the part that touched Kristoff’s mind, rejoiced at the spontaneous gesture on his part.
You’re an excellent dancer, I said, giggling again when he pulled me up tight to his hips, grinding them against me in a highly suggestive manner.
You should see me do the cinque passi, he answered.
The what, now?
It was a dance step very popular about five hundred years ago.
I twirled away again, then returned, struggling with the odd sense his words brought. You really are four hundred years old, aren’t you? I know you said you were born in the seventeenth century, but it just didn’t really hit me until now. You lived during the Renaissance. You were alive when Galileo was alive! You must have seen popes and kings and even countries rise and fall.
Galileo was an old man, blind and sick, when I saw him.
I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared up at him. You actually met Galileo? You saw him in person?
Yes. For some reason, I felt him emotionally withdraw from me. His body still moved in time to the music, but the joy had gone out of the moment.
But you must have been a very young man, I said cautiously, wondering why suddenly his mental barriers were in place again, excluding me from some of his thoughts.
Yes.
He said nothing else, and I debated pressing him for details, but I hesitated to do that. Neither of us had wanted this relationship, but he was clearly trying to make the best of it. I didn’t want to aggravate a situation that was starting to become more and more painful, at least for me, by pressing him when he wished to withhold
