Page 95 of Iron Blade

I had rushed this whole thing into fruition, and now I felt like the world was conspiring to pull her from my grasp.

I mentally cataloged what we’d need - miles of gold wire, gold dust, and welding and soldering tools which I knew the property had. I had a vision in my head of what this thing would be, and it tickled me to believe that maybe she had the same thought too.

We should get on it right away…

“Tomorrow, though.” Her voice interrupted my sudden need to go out and find the items to make a piece of art with her, and not just for her. “We need to sleep, Eoghan.”

The wisdom of her words were not lost on me, but I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to create something beautiful with her. Something to intertwine us, as we both put our names onto something beautiful.

“Tomorrow,” I promised.

“Come to bed.”

She pulled me up onto the sheets, and we lay there, facing one another, holding our hands between us.

“You can tell me anything, you know,” she said, her voice a small whisper.

“You know the same goes for you.”

My wife had secrets. Whatever instinct had made her pull my hand from the table was indicative of a life that wasn’t congruous with just a lapsed artist, and now a curator. There was something more going on.

But I would be patient, as she was. If she could handle the despair caused by my father, then I could give her time to trust me.

I leaned up to kiss her, and she met me halfway.

“I love you,” I whispered against her mouth. “Thank you for saving my hand.”

Her eyes fluttered open. I let my fingers graze down her throat, to the roundness of her full breasts. Her slight inhale helped them meet my hand, and I gasped as they rolled into my palm.

“It would be a shame,” I said in a slight growl, as my eyes followed the movement of my hand to her stomach, “If I could no longer touch you like this.”

She gasped, as my hand reached to the hem of her skirt, pulling it up her round thigh until I could lightly trace her warmth through silk underwear.

“Soaked, my love,” I whispered against her skin. “Let me block out the world and live inside you.”

She moaned, her thighs clenching together in protest, even as I felt the heat from her core meeting my hand. Her hips moved, begging for friction that I was more than eager to serve.

She had saved my hand, and for that, I wanted to give her my undying gratitude, even as I saw the shadow of secrets behind her deep, dark eyes.

Chapter thirty-three

The Safe Word

Kira

The next day, Eoghan was in high spirits. He was manic, cutting wires of gold. Each one meticulously measured.

His studio was just another bedroom, adjoining his. Furniture was covered in canvas to protect it from paint. The great beauty wasn’t the equipment he had - and his art supplies were the best of the fucking best, hands down - but the damn view.

One wall had a floor to ceiling window, allowing in natural light that bathed the place in sun. It was the perfect southern exposure and looked like it had come right out over Versailles.

“One day,” he said, as he wove two twines of golden thread together to make a branch, curling the ends to give the impression of leaves with a pair of pliers. “I’ll have you naked on this floor, so I can paint your portrait.”

I helped him with the golden wires. He wouldn’t allow cutting corners. He wanted each wire to be braided perfectly, until each one could be woven to make a tree trunk, with leaves that spanned out and into a circle, almost like the shape of a weeping willow.

“I don’t think you have the attention for such a thing, Mr. Green,” I teased.

“Oh, I do, Mrs. Green,” he said, lifting a brow. “It’ll just take longer, because I’ll need to…” He dropped the wires in his hand, and they clattered softly against the canvas floor as he crawled over to me with a wicked grin. “I’ll make sure I give myself plenty of time to handle… distractions.”

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