Page 68 of The Seer

“To access treasures. An enchantment binds them, and since he’s the one to cast the spell, he’ll be the one to break it.”

“Are you sure it was him? Could it have been someone else a century or two later?”

Peter scowled as if she blasphemed. “Don’t be soft in the head! Of course he did it.”

The Siren huffed a laugh and swatted her on the ass, pitching her forward. Luckily for her, he caught her before she stumbled into a stone wall.

“Not cool, dude.”

Proving remorse was beyond his capability, he chuffed.

“This is why women today might find you obnoxious. We don’t like men who push us around, especially physically.”

He compressed his lips, and she was startled by how human he seemed in this form. Warming up to him was a terrible idea, and she pasted on her I-mean-business expression. “Take us to the treasures, Pete. The sooner we can find them, the sooner Fintan can return.”

Mine.

“Fintan’s.”

They walked for what seemed like hours through twisting tunnels. The torch she’d conjured only lit up five feet in front of her at best, casting eerie shadows on the cave walls. Periodically, Ardghal would reach out and redirect her around a potential hazard. How the hell did he see in the dark? A Siren side effect?

If he weren’t so damned protective, she might fear the two of them working in conjunction to get rid of her.

Ardghal chuckled the second she’d considered it.

She’d forgotten he had free access to every blasted thought she had.

“I’m getting tired. How far have we gone? England?”

“Jaysus! Do ya do nothin’ but complain, girl?”

“This damned club is heavy, and I’d use it over your thick skull if you were corporeal, you ass.”

Ardghal swept her up, scaring a scream and maybe a little pee from her. The torch tumbled from her hand, coming to rest against a stone boulder, and snuffed itself out. Plunged into blackness, she clung to him.

“I never thought I was scared of the dark or claustrophobic, but I might be a little of both,” Taryn admitted aloud.

“Carry.”

“Well, I guess cavemen are good for some things,” she muttered.

His chest shook with his laughter, and she wondered—not for the first time—if all his grunting and posturing was an act.

“Maybe a little,” he said.

A rush of desire settled low in her belly.

“And there’s your reason why, love.”

She closed her eyes against the sensual assault.

“Fucking A! How did the women survive around you? Were they burning their undergarments and fighting over who bedded you if you happened to speak?” She held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I agree. The less talking you do, the better.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, pitching his voice low and intimate.

Taryn whimpered. “You’re a cruel man.”

“Most women loved it when I spoke intimately to them.”He sent it through their mental link, and Taryn was positive his amusement rode the current along with it.

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