Earlier he had taken a lap around the house to study the immediate terrain. The flat ocean horizon gave the illusion that this small nugget of Other land was vast and limitless, when in reality, according to Carling, when one sailed away from the island, one would somehow end up coming right back. The vegetable garden at the back of the house had long since turned into an overgrown jungle of weeds. He had walked the path to the cottage where the library was housed, then back again, while subtle whispers of magic skittered along the edges of his mind like furtive mice.
He could still feel those magic whispers, a sensation like the brush of cobwebs against his skin, although the greater distance from the cottage weakened them. Something in the library was restless too.
As Bailey wiped off the wine bottles and uncorked them, he studied each individual. The other three members of his security team, Bailey, Derrick and Tony, were having a good time. They joked with each other and made friendly overtures to Dendera, Steve and Olivia. Olivia laughed at his crew’s jokes and responded in kind. Dendera was the most reserved of the group, but she smiled at the others and at him.
Steve was different. He was a predator Wyr and a symbologist, a combination of characteristics that interested Sebastian. He smelled like some kind of canine, perhaps a coyote. Sebastian had already noted that Steve went out of his way to avoid him.
He had also noticed Steve’s friendly attitude toward Olivia on the flight, but since then the other Wyr’s attitude had done a one-eighty. After Sebastian had marked his claim on Olivia back on the deck of the yacht, Steve refused to look at Olivia, and he went out of his way to avoid her too.
Was the other man jealous? Sebastian smiled coldly. Steve didn’t have a chance with Olivia, so he could just dream on.
Sebastian’s restlessness ratcheted higher. He should eat, but he didn’t want to.
What he wanted had not left his mind all day.
He watched Olivia steadily, his patience eroding fast. She wore a soft blue cable knit sweater and jeans, and it was the sexiest outfit he had ever seen. Her breasts and hips rounded gently from a narrow waist, and her lovely, intelligent gray eyes lit with laughter as she responded to something that Bailey said.
Like Steve, she didn’t look at Sebastian either. Unlike Steve, he knew very well why she avoided his gaze. Sensual awareness shimmered in the air between them. Hell, it all but threw confetti and lit fireworks.
Flashes of what he had done to her, of what she had said to him, played in his mind.
Would you mind if I bit you?
The question had floored him. It was not just that she had been able to ask it—it was that she asked so politely. The very act had spoken volumes.
It said that she hadn’t ever had a lover drive her to bite and scratch. When you reached that level of passion, you didn’t pause to politely ask permission. At that point, permission would have already been given and received.
I will take you to that place, he thought. Where no man has ever taken you before.
He said to her telepathically, Your room or mine?
She had just taken a sip of wine, and she choked and coughed while Bailey pounded her on the back. Color flushed Olivia’s face, and her gaze turned brilliant and sparkling. When she replied, even her mental voice sounded strangled. I don’t care. Either. Both?
Laughter flashed through the heat building up in his veins. It was another surprise.
We’ll start with yours, he said. Then, because he could not stay in that room full of people and pretend to be civilized, he stalked out of the kitchen.
He knew which room she had chosen. He had watched earlier as she had looked outside and carefully marked the path of the sun. Then she had picked the bedroom that would fill with early morning light. As she had disappeared inside with her pack, he claimed the room adjacent to hers. Now he slipped into her room silently, removed his sunglasses and set them on a nearby table.
He stood at the window in the darkened room and looked up at the bright spray of stars in the night sky.
The moon called to him. It always called to him.
Come dance with me, it said. Take wing and fly wild into the night.
And he always had, before now.
This time, he said to the moon, I cannot fly with you this night, for I have another with whom I will dance, and she is even lovelier than you.
And the knowledge of that was both bitter and sweet, as he let go of one thing to reach for the other.
A few minutes later, he heard her footsteps in the hall. He already knew what her footsteps sounded like, quick and light on the hardwood floor. He would recognize her step anywhere.
He turned from the window without a backward glance as she slipped through the door, and with the acute senses of a predator, he knew that she was trembling. He closed his eyes and drew in everything about her.
She gave him a wealth of sensations. Her unique feminine scent drifted delicately through the air, filled with complexity and desire. The bare vulnerability of her ragged breathing played a solo for an audience of one.
His heart, which had grown so cramped with stress, fear and anger over the last several months, expanded, and he thought, It would not be so terrible to be blind like this.