she was sure it had dried properly and was back in good shooting order, she set it in a drawer of her bedside table, then finally walked into the shower. The heat that suffused her, the sense of being clean again, was almost sinfully delicious.
When she emerged, she slipped into a terry robe and returned to the living room. A figurehead gazed sternly down at her from the far wall; she smiled, looking at the various flags that adorned the walls. Gus had loved his heritage, loved this place.
She loved it, too. No monstrous killer making use of it would change that. She would find him.
She sat down to check the screens. There was no movement anywhere in or near the Dragonslayer.
As Malachi came out of Gus’s room, she stood up. She saw that he was wearing a blue terry robe, his dark hair slicked back and wet. “Everything okay?” he asked her huskily.
“Quiet. Just like it should be.”
She sat at the computer table again and he leaned over her to study the screens. She became very aware of the heat of his body and couldn’t help thinking that he might be naked under the robe. She was naked under hers.... She focused on his face as he watched the screen. She noted again the character that seemed etched in the rugged planes of his cheekbones and jaw. She felt the vitality of his muscles.
“Looks good,” he agreed. “And these same screens are on at your home. Someone will be up all night— they’ll take shifts.”
“We don’t have to take a shift?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “We’re the principal agents,” he told her. “I admit I’m new to this, too, but I did spend some time getting to know the people in both Krewes. Usually there are one—or sometimes two—agents closest to what’s happening. The people most connected to the situation. That’s us, in other words. So...we sleep when we can. The others cover the watches and do the research on people, places or possible suspects.”
She wasn’t really listening. There was something exceptionally compelling about the scent of soap on newly washed male flesh. There was something about...him.
He looked from the screen, into her eyes. She saw a sudden change in their mercurial hazel color.
Time passed, and then he touched her face, his fingers caressing and following the lines of her cheeks and jaw. She stood up, coming straight into his arms, and when his hands fell away, it was only because he needed them to pull her against him.
He kissed her, a pressure on her lips that was, at first, a request. She drew closer to him, responding, parting her lips, welcoming his tongue. Arousal swept through her, and she continued to feel the hunger of his lips, his touch. They seemed to stand there for an eternity, their kiss going on and on. It was as if a kiss were a brand-new thing, as if they’d invented it.
But in time, the kiss wasn’t enough, and she felt his hands under her robe, moving along her skin. His touch was almost...reverential. She threaded her fingers through his hair, moved closer and closer to him. And as they stumbled in their haste to touch and kiss again and again he whispered, “Bedroom.”
She whispered back, “Mine.”
He inhaled sharply, his teeth grating. “Wait. We have to slow down. I’m not—”
She smiled. “I am. I wasn’t planning on anything, but I’m on the Pill.”
He returned her smile.
They made their way down the hall, still touching, still kissing, crashing into a wall here and there. Finally they reached her bedroom and they fell onto the softness of her bed, the robes a tangle around them. Straddling her, Malachi wrangled out of his robe and helped remove hers. He paused for a minute, and she wasn’t sure what went through his mind. She didn’t care; she rose against him, loving the feel of her breasts against the heat of his chest. Again, they kissed, still kissing as they eased back down.
She felt him slide down the length of her body. She felt his touch, so evocative, so arousing that she was nearly delirious. Her life had been the Dragonslayer and the academy for so long...but she knew that wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing would have mattered. There were people who changed reality for others, created magic for them, and Malachi was that magic for her. She had never wanted anyone so much, never felt so afire, so hungry. And his every touch fulfilled her. His intimacy brought her almost to the brink, teased her and let her slip to become almost insanely aroused again. And then, he thrust deeply into her, filled her, and his movements elicited that same fevered urgency.
The world around her seemed to spin, to disappear, and yet to become achingly real. She was fascinated by his touch. His hair, the wicked movement of his muscles. She arched and writhed against him until the fire within her seemed to explode. She felt him explode within her as well, and for a moment, she simply luxuriated in the sensation of winding down. When she did, she felt the coolness of the air around them and she smiled. Sex wasn’t new; it was as old as life on earth. And yet she couldn’t help feeling that they had somehow reinvented the wonder of it all that night.
She smoothed back a lock of her hair and curled up against his chest. “Is...was that allowed?” she asked.
She saw the curve of his lips. “I didn’t ask anyone’s permission.”
“Yes, but...”
“I think it’s okay. Jackson is with Angela. Will is with Kat. We have two other couples in the teams. Maybe it has to do with our unique talents.” He rolled so that they faced each other. “And maybe it’s because, somehow, these situations just bring us together with the most fascinating people in the country.”
She smiled again and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fascinating?”
“Entirely.”
“You’re a bit unusual yourself, you know.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“I’d never have imagined...”
He rose up on one elbow, gazing down at her. “Actually, I’d never imagined any of this. I made a rather awkward start of it. My social graces may be a bit...lacking.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “Your other skills aren’t.”
He leaned down and kissed her once more. She’d never, ever believed a kiss could be so deep, do so much, enter her every cell.
That kiss...
They began making love again, more slowly at first, and then more frantically, and when they’d finished she lay in his arms. She thought they’d talk afterward, but they didn’t. Exhaustion must have overwhelmed her. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
She didn’t hear when the kitchen crew arrived in the morning.
She didn’t awaken until she felt Malachi bolt up and go running out to the living area. Then she became aware of the sound of a ringing phone.
A minute later, he returned to the bedroom, pausing naked and perfect in the doorway. His tone was strange—anxiety combined with regret. “We’ve got to get moving,” he told her. “Helen Long is conscious and talking. We have to get to the hospital.”
Jackson was there to meet them when they arrived.
“How is she?” Abby asked.
“She’s doing all right. She’s suffering from dehydration more than anything else.”
“What has she said so far?” Malachi asked.
“Very little. She’s only been conscious for a couple of hours, and David asked her what she remembered, who hurt her, but she still seemed disoriented. David thought she might be better once Abby got here,” Jackson said. “And she might have had enough time now to reorient and remember at least some of what happened.”
“Let’s hope so,” Abby said.
Malachi nodded and looked at Jackson. “Was I right about what I saw? She was bleeding in the water. I figured she had to be alive but I couldn’t see the injury. Was her ring finger taken?”
“Yes. She cried for a while when she realized that. In fact, the hospital staff had to sedate her. She’s calmer now, but still lucid,” Jackson told them. “There was a plastic surgeon on duty and he explained that they could do a prosthetic that she’d hardly notice. Then, of course, she cried because she’s grateful to be alive.” He turned to Abby. “She knows you saved her, although she can’t figure out how you knew she’d be in the middle of the
