Page 192 of Flirting with Darkness

He strode through the conservatory, each step measured and smooth. “Keep talking to me, little flower.” His voice was achingly soft, stirring the hair on top of my head, making me shiver and snuggle closer to him. “I want to know you’re still with me.”

“I’m here. Tired, though.”

Around me, he tensed. His neck corded. “I’m not sure how much blood you lost. And I don’t want to find out what happens if you… if the worst happens in one of these dreams.” He lifted his head. “House, it would be really helpful if you would wake us up now.”

At least then I wouldn’t be injured.

But we were still trapped in House’s dream when we passed through the door into the main part of the house.

“Rose?” He nudged my forehead with his nose, the tight line of his mouth dipping into view.

When I didn’t respond, he nuzzled more forcefully, the bridge of his nose passing over my brow.

It was such a delicious feeling, I was sorely tempted to go on not responding.

“Love? Little flower?”

Damn it, his voice with that little edge of brokenness to it cut through any temptation to stay still.

“I’m here.” I patted his chest and lifted my head to smile up at him. But the expression withered on my lips when I caught sight of the fear on his face, the bright gleam of his eyes.

He was afraid. For me. And sorry that he hadn’t been able to prevent me from getting hurt.

He’d ripped that monster apart with his bare hands because it had hurt me. The washerwoman was lucky to get away with plain decapitation.

He wasn’t a monster.

But he was a protector. A shield. A beast.

Mybeast.

And I loved that.

Maybe that made me sick. Maybe I didn’t care.

I cupped his cheek. “I’m here, Faolán, my beast. I’m safe with you.” I tilted my head up and touched my lips to his.

Only lightly.

Only briefly.

But it filled me with warmth and let me take a fuller breath and pushed away the gnawing pain of my arm.

And after, the fear on his face was replaced with a smile. No bitterness to it. Nothing guarded. No sardonic edge or cocky humour to it.

Just a pure, happy smile.

I’d kiss my grumpy beast many more times if it would have that effect.

Heart full, grin tired, I twitched a loose lock of his hair and clicked my tongue like I heard riders do to their sabrecats. “Come on, giddy up.”

One eyebrow arched. “Are you treating me like I’m your steed?”

“Anoblesteed.”

“Hmm.” He scowled, but started up his smooth pace again. “If I could lie, I would say I preferred it when I thought you were unconscious.”

I chuckled and leant my head against his chest, limbs feeling heavier with each moment.

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