Page 79 of Somewhere down the Ley Line
He grinned widely. “What does it look like?”
Tingles spread outward over her skin, causing her to shiver. She bit her lip as his hands roamed down her back, fingers trailing along her spine.
“Will you really come with me?” She said, her voice fragile in her own ears. “No matter what? You’re not just saying that so…”
Felix stilled, his head tilted a fraction. “So? So… what?”
She was suddenly very aware of the way she was sitting. A flash of heat surged through her, and she squirmed on top of him. “You know.”
His grin turned wicked. “Do I? I don’t have the faintest idea what you mean.”
She pursed her lips, and he laughed quietly. “Isa. I would be a bloody liar if I said I didn’t want to. But if that’sallI wanted, I hope you’ll forgive me for saying there are significantly easier, less lethal ways.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Hm. I suppose.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then trailed his hand down the side of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“I’m with you,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “No matter how, no matter what.”
He traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. Isolde’s heart was racing, threatening to burst out of her chest, her breathing uneven and shaky.
She heard him exhale slowly, then, “Can I kiss you?”
Her eyes opened to find him leaning forward, his face inches from hers. She nodded.
He cradled the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair, gently drawing her closer. When their lips met, it was merely a brush, soft as the touch of a feather. A small noise escaped her, and he pulled her flush against him with a sound that was more growl than anything else, a sound she felt in her entire body. Kissing him again was everything Isolde had imagined it would be, heady and intoxicating. Exhilarating and new yet achingly familiar. Magic coiled around them, not wild or erratic, but slow and gentle as a caress. As if it approved and liked him as much as she did.
She trailed kisses down his jaw, and he struggled to stifle a groan, tightening his grip on her waist. In response, she rocked her hips against the now very noticeable evidence of his arousal.
“Stop,” he hissed, “they’ll hear us.”
“Let them,” she murmured. “They had their fun at our expense.”
His reply sounded strangled as his hands slid down the curve of her hips. “And you’re planning to take revenge by having fun at theirs?”
She barely hesitated. “Yes.”
If she was falling back into his arms too quickly, too easily, after being so stubborn about it, Isolde didn’t care. She wanted it all. To claim her magic for herself, and to claim him, too. She could not remember ever wanting anything more in her life.
28
Two missing halves
Felix wondered if this was all a dream. If it was, it was an exceptionally good one. If he woke up in a rain-soaked bedroll or something equally dismal in the next few minutes, there would be hell to pay.
But he didn’t. Isolde was practically writhing on top of him, and he didn’t wake up. He slowly, tentatively moved his hands under the hem of her tunic and brushed his fingertips up along the sides of her body, drawing the most beautiful little noises out of her when he stroked the underside of her breasts. When he attempted to pull on the fabric to take it off, though, she stopped him.
Her eyes were boring into his; her face impish. “Let’s go outside.”
“Outside? What do you want to do outside?”
Isolde’s head tilted, her grin widening even more, and she stood.
“In the rain?”
She shrugged.
“Isa,” he said, trying to keep himself from laughing, “rain is wet, and cold. Come back here.”
