Page 367 of Lodestar

His glower faded. “That’s not funny, Star.”

“Sure, it is.” With that glower still aimed at me, I mused out loud, “You do realize you’re the only guy I’ll allow to touch me, Conor?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means thatnow, never mind years ago when I first came across Tryn, the notion of a guy touching me sexually makes me heave.” I fought the urge to retch at just the possibility. “As for the past, I used men, Conor. Every one of them I came across was a fool waiting for me to lead them around by their dicks.”

“And I’m not a fool?”

“And you’re not,” I said easily, reaching up to run my hand along the sharp edge of his jaw, hoping that would soothe him rather than incite. “Got your ring on my finger,” I reminded him.

“You do. What happened with him?”

Sad that he didn’t feel secure enough to let go of this, I hitched a shoulder. “He doesn’t like my methods. Can’t blame him. The guy thinks he walks on water. He was just asking to be pulled off his pedestal.”

For the first time since Bowen had interrupted us, amusement gleamed in Conor’s eyes. “Why does he want to speak with you later?”

“He’s full of his own importance,” I dismissed then checked my watch. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going now.”

Though he nodded, when I stepped away, he grabbed my hand and tugged me into him. When I barreled into his chest, he stared into my eyes. “No secrets between us, Star.”

“No secrets. But I’m not going to detail who I’ve fucked and when, Conor, just like I don’t expect you to share that information with me. Especially as both of us have admitted that we always fucked and ran in the past.”

He grunted.

I took that to mean he agreed but didn’t want to verbalize it.

I smirked at him as I hovered my mouth above his. “I love you, Conor.”

He grunted again. “Love you too, Star.”

More amused than ever by his begrudging tone, I dragged him into the foyer and the concierge drifted alongside to guide us toward the door where a car was waiting.

Upon seeing us, the driver moved to the back seat and opened the door so we could slip inside.

The ride to the cemetery was short but not exactly sweet thanks to the usual traffic that riddled the streets. I pressed my hand to the window, watching my body heat steam up aroundmy digits as we drove through Kensington toward the outskirts of Central London.

It was a good thing we’d elected to avoid the church service and intended only to watch the coffin be interred because we were later than anticipated when the driver, apologizing all the way, pulled up outside the cemetery.

By the time we were walking down the gravel path toward Ovianar’s plot, it had started to rain.

“Fucking England,” I muttered. “Always raining.”

Conor tipped his head back. “Nothing wrong with rain.”

“They’ve said we can’t drink the rain now. It’s too acidic.”

“Since when do you drink rainwater?”

“Hey, don’t judge. Sometimes rain is the only water source for miles around.”

He hauled his arm over my shoulders and dragged me into his side. “If we ever get stuck in the wilderness, you’ll totally save our asses, won’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m good in dire situations,” was my dry retort, but my words faltered when I saw the people gathered around the grave.

He squeezed me, murmuring, “It’ll be over soon.”

“I know. I’m just?—”

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