At least that’s what I intended it to be. But as my lips touch his, they part with an invitation for more. He frames my face with his large hands as he dips his tongue in to slide against mine briefly before retreating. I try to give chase, my earlier desires sparking to life once again, but he holds me firm to punctuate the moment with a trio of sweet kisses to my forehead, the tip of my nose, and finally my lips.
He pulls away and curls his hands into fists as though needing to physically stop himself from reaching for me again. “Goodnight, solnyshko,” he says, his voice gruff with threadbare restraint I feel in my bones.
Little sun. The reminder of his new endearment for me has me on the verge of blushing like a Fireling, so I bid him goodnight in return and make a hasty retreat. Just as I reach the bedroom door, he stops me. “Taryn…”
I turn back, a little too quickly to be casual, but I do my best to sound it. “Yes?”
His gaze is arresting, his expression serious as he references my teasing words from earlier on the balcony. “A fae would have to be blind not to have eyes for you.”
The butterflies kick up again, and I can’t stop the wide grin spreading across my face. “Looks like a few drops of that charm trickled down to you, after all, Prince Finnian.”
And before I can do something foolish, like retrace my steps and pick up where we left off, I duck into his room where I lie in his bed, surrounded by his scent, and caress the rope lines on my leg until I’m dreaming of bright golden eyes…and his lips on mine.
TENFINNIAN
As I gather the ingredients I need for my post-workout shake, I glance at my watch for the hundredth time since waking up three hours ago, wondering when Taryn will emerge from her room. Starting my days at 5 a.m. is a habit I’ve had since I started training with the Night Watch at fifteen, but never has a morning gone so fucking slow before.
I tried convincing myself that it’s not because I’m anxious to see her again, but I’ve never been good at lying to myself, and I’m not even sure I want to. I’m drawn to her in a way I’ve never been to anyone before. My brain keeps replaying my time with her on a loop, from the moment our eyes locked in the room she was held prisoner through the moment we said goodnight after I saw my rope marks on her body and nearly ravaged her for it.
I’d happily spend a lifetime watching Taryn fly apart from coming. I wasn’t just giving her lip service when I said she reminds me of the sun. She glows with this inner light that captivates me every time I look at her.
As much as I wanted to sink inside her last night, I’m glad we were interrupted. I trust that she’s a female who knows her own mind, but she’s still fresh out of a traumatic situation, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of her, even unintentionally. I was more than happy to help her get off, to relieve her pent-up needs, with no reciprocation. Giving her pleasure was my pleasure.
No, it’s not that part of the evening I regret. It’s the way I put my foot in my mouth during the Q&A portion. All morning I’ve been berating myself for bypassing the safe waters of polite conversation and diving headfirst into the deep end of her troubled past. I knew there was a chance she might not want to talk about it. I was even prepared for her to use the pass. But the near panic attack took me by surprise. I feel like an asshole.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I start brainstorming ways I can make it up to her when I hear Taryn come out of her room. She enters the kitchen wearing pale pink leggings, a fitted heather-gray baby tee, and tennis shoes. The sleepy smile on her face is adorable, especially with her hair pulled into a high pony that lets her ringlets cascade around the pointed tips of her ears.
“Morning,” she says with just a hint of awkwardness.
“Morning,” I answer gruffly. Suddenly, an image flashes in my mind of her walking into my open arms and hugging me tight as I kiss the top of her head. It’s so vivid I’m almost shocked when I blink and she hasn’t moved from the entrance to the kitchen. Then I realize she said something I missed.
“Sorry, what was that?”
She leans a hip against the counter, grabs a tangerine from the basket of fruit, and begins peeling it. “I said I slept like the dead. Amazing what a good bed and non-poisonous room can do for the quality of one’s sleep.”
Every time I’m reminded of the constant pain she endured, I want to hunt Edevane down and tear him limb from limb then feed him to a pack of hungry wolf shifters.
“Finn, are you okay? You seem distracted.”
“No, I’m good. You want some coffee or something to eat?”
“Not yet. I was wondering if maybe you have a home gym, though?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. Fighting is a big part of both our lives; it’s something we have in common, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find her even more attractive knowing her reputation for kicking others’ asses in the UFCO and on battlefields.
“I figured someone who looks like you probably has to be less than fifty yards away from a set of free weights at all times or you begin wasting away,” she says, then pops an orange section into her mouth.
I mock offense and cross my arms over my chest. “That’s just plain insulting. I can go at least a hundred.”
She chuckles. “Impressive. So, the gym, then, would be…”
“I’ll show you. Maybe I’ll put in a second workout.”
“Only the second? Slow day for you, Jolly Fae Giant?”
I shake my head and laugh, but before I can tease her back, someone buzzes the door to the penthouse. The door that no one should have access to besides Helen, and she’s out of town visiting her daughter for the rest of the week.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asks, wary of the interruption.
“No. I’m not.” There’s a security panel in every room that’s wired with video and audio capabilities. I go to the one on the far wall in the kitchen and hit the button to bring up the live feed. What appears to be a human male in his twenties is standing at the door holding a manilla envelope like those used for interoffice mail. Though it’s possible he’s a glamoured fae. We can sense whether someone is other, but only in person, not through technology.
I could ask him who he is and what he wants, but that would be pointless. If he’s human, he’ll lie, and if he’s fae, he’ll give me some kind of fae-truth that implies something he doesn’t mean.
Opening the small cabinet above the refrigerator, I use my thumb print to unlock the gun safe inside. The buzzer sounds again. Grabbing one of the Berettas, I check the clip and chamber a round, then look at Taryn.
“Go to your room until I tell you it’s clear.”
She responds by taking a Glock 9 from the safe. In a few seconds Taryn expertly checks that she has a full clip, chambers a round, and keeps the barrel pointed at the ground as she flips the safety off. “Rescuing me once doesn’t make me your damsel in distress, Verran. The next time you tell me to hide, you’ll have to face whatever it is with a bruised set of balls. Ponyatno?”
“Got it,” I repeat in English, unable to hide an appreciative grin. The buzzer going off a third time and snaps me back to reality. “You open the door, I’ll drag him inside.”
When we get to the door, we take our positions. I arch my brows to ask if she’s ready. She nods then does a countdown with her fingers. Three, two, one. Taryn pulls the door open just wide enough for me to grab the kid by the shirt and yank him inside. He screeches in surprise, and as soon as Taryn slams the door shut, I shove his back up against the unforgiving steel.
In tandem, like we’re in a Quentin Tarantino movie, we raise our guns and aim them at the kid—definitely human—who looks like he’s about to piss himself.
“Who the fuck are you and how did you get up here?” I growl.
“Oh, God, please don’t kill me! I-I’m Stan f-from the Law Offices of Hurst, Singh, & Hoffman. I w-was given the code for the elevator so I could personally deliver this package to a Mr. Finnian Verran.”
