Page 29 of Charmed

Except that hadn't happened. Instead, his kiss had been fierce, dominating, and absolute. He'd taken total control and still allowed her breathing room to express her needs. The tenderness he'd displayed afterward was gutting. Even now, hours later.

The infuriating man.

And had the desire fizzled? Nope. Not for either of them. His actions and words had proven that.

Infuriating, infuriating man.

He was funny to a fault, could admit when he was scared or wrong, stood up for what he believed in, knew when to take the reins or back off, and challenged her at every cross. Mustn't forget sexy. As if she could. He was so far removed from every guy she'd encountered that he had her doubting even herself.

The most jarring part? He was still dressed. In the same jeans and tee from last night, he'd spent the entire night next to her, and hadn't tried a thing. Hadn't attempted to take advantage, coax, wheedle, charm, or entice her into anything but sleep. She'd thought chivalry had gone out of style in the dark ages.

Goddess, she needed space.

Shoving to her feet, she snatched a robe and left him to rest. After relieving herself in the bathroom across the hall and assuring she was presentable enough, she descended the stairs and found Ceara in the kitchen. Fiona had barely made it to the coffeepot before her sister started the third degree.

"You slept with Riley."

Rolling her eyes, Fiona added a spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream to her mug. "Yes, slept. As in, we mutually closed our lids and drifted into slumber."

"Oh, don't give me that." Ceara leaned her hip against the island and sipped from her cup. "What gives?"

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't approve an overnight guest first, but things were hectic and it was late."

They had an unspoken rule about discussing strangers in the house, as much for safety as courtesy. Though Riley wasn't a stranger, per se, Fiona still should've gotten an okay from her sister before allowing him to crash.

"Not what I meant. I was referring to the fact that you don't get cozy with your lovers." Ceara's brows lifted in question. "I can't recall the last time, if ever, a guy spent the night with you."

"We're not lovers. Nothing happened."

"Which makes him being here even more interesting."

"It's too early for this conversation." Fiona turned and planted her butt on the island, her feet dangling, and took a healthy swallow of caffeine to give herself time to think. She didn't know what to make of her behavior, either. "He was really rattled last night after the encounter in the forest. It didn't seem right to send him home in that state."

Ceara nodded and stared passively into her cup. "I imagine it was pretty frightening for him. The rest of us merely caught the fallout, and I'm still unsettled."

"I'm all right, though." Fiona had tried to relay that to him, too, but to no avail. "Running into his uncle unexpectedly is freakish enough, never mind adding in the other stuff. It had to have brought up unsavory memories for him growing up."

Her sister made a sound of agreement and turned her head to stare out the window. "What that man did to those boys was awful. I can't begin to fathom what they've been through. The abhorrence and malevolence eking from him in the instances I've encountered him dropped me to my knees. And that was but a few minutes. Imagine being raised by him."

The Meath boys had given Fiona and her sisters a skeletal version of the abuse they'd endured. Starvation techniques as behavior modification. Isolation when he'd wanted them to fall in line. Belittling and scorning them. And, on some occasions, beatings. They'd downplayed their childhood, had claimed it hadn't been all bad, but she didn't believe them.

She could barely stomach the thought, but Ceara's gift shoved those emotions front and center. She felt what others felt, read every stitch of pain or joy or fear as if it were her own. Fiona wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"They're more well-adjusted than we would be." Fiona shrugged. "Despite the three-centuries-old feud between our bloodlines, they do seem like great guys."

"Yes, they do." Ever calm, Ceara swept her gaze over Fiona as if hesitating to speak her mind. "Encountering his uncle didn't scare Riley half as much as what happened to you. He refused to let go of your hand, even after we had you settled on the couch, and he didn't take his eyes off you for a second. The alarm and worry coming from him choked me several times. He was a wreck."

"Really?" Fiona sipped her coffee, attempting to ignore the flip-flop in her belly. In not so elegant terms, he'd relayed something similar to her in the bedroom. She hadn't been one-hundred percent sure she'd believed him. Adrenaline and the impending crash had a way of screwing up rational thought. She assumed that was his excuse. "He tried protecting me in the woods." She huffed a laugh. "I'm the one with magical powers, and he stepped right in front of me."

"Did he?" Ceara smiled. "I don't think anyone's tried to slay your dragons before. Or," she added with emphasis, "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd let them."

"I didn't let him, and I don't need a knight."

"You got one anyway." Ceara set her mug on the counter and crossed her arms, amusement in her eyes. "I predict you two aren't going to be platonic for long."

"Platonic? Pfft. Try slutonic." At her sister's questioning gaze, Fiona begrudgingly relented. "He might've kissed me last night. It may or may not have been earth-shattering."

"Look at you, trying to downplay it like it didn't turn you on beyond reason." Ceara waved away Fiona's impending denial. "Don't bother. I can feel the desire from here at just the mention of the kiss. Why the hesitation chaser?"

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