Page 7 of In the Shadow of a Dream

Her gaze shifted up. “I find comfort looking at them.”

“There’s a place I’ve visited where the stars sparkle in the night sky, and light dances across the sky like fluttering ribbons.”

She took a deep breath. “That must be beautiful.” She paused, then said, “I like the stories about them. I used–” But she stopped.

“Used to?” he asked, suddenly curious.

But she didn’t continue, and though he was curious to know what she’d been about to tell him, he was content to let it drop.

A few moments later, he turned to face her, needing to find a way across the bridge he’d burned. “I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings,mi alora. Earlier… by waiting to ask you to dance.”

She turned to look at him. “Mi alora?” she asked, using ancientRa’ha, the language of the gods.

Confused, Luc tilted his head. “What? Where did you hear that? How do you knowRa’ha?”

“Ra’ha? You just said it. What does that mean?”

Luc swallowed and straightened, his heart skittering a haphazard rhythm in his chest. Why had he used old language, that particular phrase? With her? “I did?”

My heart.

Brinna nodded.

Rather than admit it, admit what it meant, because his heart was bumbling around inside his chest with a mixture of feeling—confusion, anxiety, anticipation—he turned to face her. “I would like to make it up to you,” he deflected. “May I have a dance? Under the stars?”

“Here?”

He saw she liked the idea by the way her countenance softened, so he took a step closer, anticipating her scent once more. “Yes. Here,” he replied. “Allow me to make amends.”

When she nodded, he dipped a hand under the jacket still draped over her shoulders and slid it around her waist to the center of her back, then folded his hand around hers. Chills raced across his skin, and he urged her a touch closer.

Brinna complied, and Luc, because he was still his devilish self, pulled her even closer until they were firmly pressed against one another. Then he danced with Brinna Fareview—his singing woodland fairy— with the music in the distance, in that little meadow under the stars. His memories of her careened around inside him, clashing with the feelings he had seeing her, the need he felt to remain near her, and the curiosity he felt to allow himself the pleasure of kissing her just once.

They danced.

“Brinna?” he asked, longing to see the sparkle in her eyes.

She made a soft questioning sound as she lifted her face.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, to that little divot in her bottom lip. Without considering the consequences, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, nipping at her bottom lip. She gasped, then relaxed into him, tilting her head, inviting the kiss to continue.

Their swaying stopped, the dance forgotten, and Luc slid a hand up her spine under his jacket draped over her shoulders, pressing her even closer.

Her hands wrapped around him; her softness pressed against his chest.

When she made a needy sound, his control slipped, and with his tongue, he explored that little divot until her lips parted, allowing him in. The moment she did, the kiss caught fire and he lost reason, as just a taste turned more substantial and wishful.

A shout and a laugh in the distance tore the kiss apart.

Brinna touched her mouth, a little sound of shock in the space between them.

Afraid of what he’d done, of the sensations crawling through him filling up the space inside of him with longing, he stepped back. “There. Obligatory dance given.” He swiped his hands together and took another step away from her.

“Excuse me?”

“Just trying to keep my brother happy,” he lied.

With a groan of frustration—and maybe hurt—she pulled his jacket from her shoulders and shoved it against his chest. Then without a word, Brinna walked back toward the meeting house, leaving him both happy she was returning to safety without him having to carry her there, and angry with himself for hurting her. Again.

---