Chapter 8 #4
“Okay.” Selene released a long breath. “I think I can handle the ten-year courtship. Or at least I’m willing to give it a chance. What you’ve described is hardly unreasonable.”
Fen nodded. “I’m glad you’re open to our custom.”
“You’re not making it that hard.” Selene scoffed. “If you told me Allie had to become a werewolf tomorrow, we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”
“I would hope so,” he said and rolled his broad shoulders back.
Her eyes wanted to track the movement of that thick muscle, so she quickly shifted her gaze to Allie and Josh at the piano.
She couldn’t stop herself from asking quietly, “Do you think they’ll make it?”
Fen watched the young pair for several heartbeats before answering. “It’s impossible to know.”
The sudden lump in her throat caught Selene off guard. “Isn’t it always?”
“Yes.” She felt a gentle touch at her elbow, and she turned to find herself pinned by that odd searching gaze Fen had captured her with earlier.
This time she didn’t look away, holding his eyes for long moments.
I shouldn’t let this happen. I need to lock up whatever these feelings are and lose the key.
Fen stood and offered her his hand. “Shall we enjoy the music?”
It was too easy to slide her fingers into his grasp. She rose and walked with him to stand closer to the piano. Like most of the immortal boys in the movies she’d streamed, Josh was a piano virtuoso. He drew a lilting, mournful tune from the ivory keys.
After listening for a few measures, Selene stifled a laugh.
“You don’t care for Beethoven?” Fen asked, bemused by her reaction.
“Absolutely, I do. And Josh plays beautifully. But the ‘Moonlight Sonata’? This . . . castle? And werewolves?” she whispered, not wanting to be rude but unable to resist the moment. “I feel like I’m on the set of a Gothic film.”
“You would prefer something else?” he asked. His voice was neutral, but she thought she spied a challenge in his gaze. As if her observation had raised the stakes of their exchange.
She started to shake her head, but Fen lifted his voice.
“Josh, would you indulge me?”
Josh gave the briefest nod, and his fingers flowed smoothly from the Beethoven sonata into a new melody. After a minute of listening, Selene smiled.
“You know the piece?” Fen watched her closely.
“I love Fauré,” she murmured.
“Fauré, environmental protection campaigns, and romance novels. A woman of eclectic tastes. I like it.”
“I also speak Klingon,” Selene said without looking at him.
“I . . .” A long pause. “Did you say Klingon?”
She stole a glance at him and kept her expression blank for about five seconds.
“Your face. Oh my god.” She gasped between laughs. “You believed me.”
Fen was stunned, which made Selene laugh even harder. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. The piano went silent.
“Aunt Selene?” Allie had turned on the bench and was peering at Selene with a frown. “Are you okay?”
“I, I’m . . .” She couldn’t catch her breath, hiccuping instead, and she dissolved into giggles again.
“She’s fine, Allie,” Fen said. “I promise. Please continue, Josh.”
Notes lilted through the air again, and Selene finally quelled her mirth. She smiled at Fen, feeling a new lightness. She’d needed a release desperately, and it felt so good, she wasn’t even a smidge embarrassed by her outburst. She felt even better when she saw Fen smiling at her.
“I take it you don’t speak Klingon?”
“Sorry if that disappoints you,” she said. “Though I do love Star Trek.”
“I’m more of a Star Wars man,” he replied. “But I won’t let that mar my opinion of you.”
“And I’ve never believed in picking sides,” Selene told him. “The more sci-fi adventures I can get, the better.”
“You’re an intergalactic peacemaker then,” Fen teased. “How admirable.”
Refusing to let herself preen, Selene pointed at the piano. “I’m not even going to ask if you play because I know the answer is yes. And if not, what have you been doing with your time? I hear you’re Crusades old.”
She bit her lip, wondering if she’d pushed too much, but Fen only chuckled.
“I do play,” he replied. “But I prefer the cello.”
Okay. I want to swoon a little. Just a little. “I have a weakness for the cello.”
“It’s a wonderful instrument.” He looked at her. That seeking gaze. “Do you dance, Selene?”
Puzzled by the question, she gave a tentative nod. “On occasion.”
“Would you give me the pleasure?”
“Are you serious?” Her knees threatened to become jelly.
Do people actually dance in conservatories after dinner? Wait, okay. Reset. I’m not dealing with people. It’s a whole new ball game.
“Absolutely.” He turned to face her. “Don’t worry, I’m not decrepit. I may be Crusades old, but I’m not pyramids old.”
Laughter, light as fizzing champagne, escaped her. “Well then, how can I refuse?”
His hand slid along her waist, and before she knew what was happening, she found herself turning in languid circles through the conservatory, Fen leading her steps effortlessly.
Dancing. We’re really dancing. What is happening here?
She flushed and glanced at Allie, but the girl’s head was nestled on Josh’s shoulder as his fingers moved over the keys.
“Do you always dance after dinner?” she murmured.
“No.” The crease between his brows returned. “I can’t remember the last time I did.”
She fell silent, and he smoothly guided them through slow, graceful movements.
Each turn brought them closer. Closer. The heat of his body seeped through the fabric of her dress, warming her skin.
She could feel the contours of his chest. Hard lines against her soft curves.
It was impossible to not melt against his body. The feel of him irresistible.
Oh. My. God.
“You haven’t given me an update,” he said softly. His hand slid from her waist to follow the curve of her hip and along her lower back, where his firm touch rested, fingers splayed. A shiver chased up her spine.
“An update?”
He bent his head. Before he spoke, she heard him draw a long, deep breath.
Is he . . . smelling me? She couldn’t decide if that was flattering or just weird.
A flash of memory from the bookstore—he’d done the same thing.
What did it mean? Was it a werewolf thing?
Werewolf thing or not, she couldn’t stop herself from taking her own deep breath, and .
. . oh . . . he smelled like the deep forest after rain.
“Nocturne’s Burden, the tale of forbidden desire.” His warm breath skimmed over the shell of her ear. “Has it usurped the other books on your nightstand yet?”
He straightened, and she blinked at him. Does he really want to discuss romance novels with me?
“And has the wolf had his way with the heroine?” His eyes were full of mirth, but beneath that, something else lay in wait. “Ripped the bodice from her heaving bosom?”
She staved off lurking temptation by zeroing in on the conversation. Okay, romance novels it is.
“There has been some bodice ripping,” she said dryly. “And some heaving bosoms. It’s just that sort of book.”
“I’m glad it hasn’t been a disappointment.” His smile was like a caress over every inch of her skin.
So much for keeping lust at bay.
Spirals of warmth curled in her belly and began to work their way down, becoming a hot pulse between her thighs. Her breasts grew heavy, beginning to ache. When her overly sensitive nipples brushed against him, she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping.
He just had to bring up the bosoms, didn’t he?
Fen leaned closer and pulled in another slow breath. Selene felt a vibration in his chest accompanied by a low sound. A growl. Her own nervous sip of air stopped halfway into her lungs. His gaze became hungry. Feral.
Oh god. He’s a wolf. He can smell that he’s turning me on.
She tried to calm herself, but her heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and her skin grew hotter by the minute. She was startled and embarrassed by the sudden wetness drenching her panties, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Fen’s arm tightened around her waist, molding her body to his own. Her eyes widened. His erection was like a lead pipe against her stomach. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning at the sudden throb in her core. Every inch of her being screamed to sink into him, to surrender.
But.
Reality.
Responsibility.
I am not here for this.
“My niece is ten feet away,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“She is distracted.” His response barely hid the laughter behind his words.
It was annoying that he seemed to be so much more in control of himself than she was.
“I just met you.” She tried to pull away, but his powerful arms kept their bodies locked together.
“In flesh, perhaps,” he murmured. “In soul, perhaps not.”
Wait, what? That shouldn’t sound so right.
She felt dizzy. “I don’t think that way. I can’t.”
He bent his face close, and when he spoke, his lips nearly brushed against hers.
“Open your mind, Selene.”
She shook her head in attempt to clear the sweltering fog that swirled and obscured any clear thoughts. “What do you want?”
“I would think that’s obvious.”
“Stop. I need a minute.” Her blood was on fire, but she dug her nails into her palms until pain cut through the haze of desire.
“You fascinate me. I never thought to feel this . . .” he said. His lips grazed her cheek. “I want to know you. Intimately.”
She swallowed and looked at Allie and Josh. I have to take care of her. I can’t do . . . whatever this is.
Turning a hard gaze on Fen, she managed to twist out of his embrace.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I beg your pardon?”