Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(23)
“Why?” My fingers play at the ruffles covering the front of his shirt, sneaking their way between the buttons to the expanse of warm chest beneath. “Did she have designs on you—as they say? And was this before or after Count Fersen split the scene?”
He laughs. “Before, during, and after. It was definitely the place to be—or at least for a while anyway.” He shakes his head. “And no, for your information, we were merely good friends, she had no designs on me, or none that I noticed at least. I was thinking more in terms of how some beautiful women aren’t always so pleased when another one enters the scene.”
I look at him, taking in the elegant planes of his face, the lock of glossy dark hair that falls over his eye, thinking how gallant he looks, how noble he is, how this look really suits him, really says who he is, far more than the faded jeans and black motorcycle boots ever did.
“So what’d Marie Antoinette think of Drina, then?” I ask, remembering her in all of her creamy-skinned, emerald-eyed, redheaded glory—a beauty so great it robbed me of breath. Realizing just after it’s out that I’m actually having a conversation about Damen’s evil ex-wife and not feeling even the slightest twinge of my usual jealousy. And it’s not just because of the magick of Summerland, but because I really, truly am at peace with it now.
Though, unfortunately, Damen’s not aware of my new outlook, which probably explains why his brow’s gone all slanted and his mouth grim. Wondering if I’m really going to start this up again, after he’s gone to all the trouble to make this for me.
But I just smile, inviting him to look inside my mind and see for himself. I asked only because I was curious, nothing more. There’s not a hint of jealousy to be found.
“Drina and Marie didn’t quite care for each other,” he says, visibly relieved with my change of heart. “I mostly came calling on my own.”
I look at him, imagining all of the beautiful single women who must’ve just swooned the second he walked in the room with no partner beside him—and again, just like before, I feel nothing.
Everyone has a past. Even, it seems, me. The only thing that really matters is that he loves me. Has always loved me. Spent the last four hundred years searching for me. And I think I finally get just how big a deal that really is.
“Let’s stay here forever,” I whisper, pulling him to me and covering his face with my kiss. “We’ll just take up residence in this amazing place, and when we get tired of it—if we get tired of it—we’ll just manifest somewhere else to live.”
“We can do that at home, you know.” He looks at me, gaze tender and deep, hand buried in my hair, smoothing the strands. “We can live anywhere we want—have anything we want—go anywhere we want—just as soon as we graduate high school and move away from Sabine.” He laughs.
And even though I smile and laugh along with him, I know better.
I can’t really have this at home.
Not after the spell that I wove.
And until I can find a way to break it, this is the one and only place I can be like this, feel like this. The magick will dissolve the second I make my way back through the portal.
“But in the meantime, there’s really no reason to hurry back—is there?” He grins, tipping my chin ’til my lips meet his.
He presses against me, his body covering mine, the almost feel of his hands on my skin filling me with tingle and heat. The two of us surrendering to the moment, surrendering to the limits we’ve no choice but to accept. My lips at his ear as I murmur, “No reason I can think of. No reason at all.”
ten
“Ever—Ever, wake up! We have to be getting back soon.”
I roll onto my back and stretch, extending my arms up high over my head, while arching my back and flexing my toes, moving slowly, leisurely, infused with such languid warmth I’m tempted to just roll over again.
“Seriously.” Damen laughs, his lips at my ear, nipping the lobe in that way that makes me giggle. “We’ve already discussed this, we both agreed we’d return eventually.”
I lift one droopy lid, then the other, met by an overload of silk, gilt, and the ruffles from Damen’s shirt tickling the tip of my nose—I’m still in Versailles?
“How long did I sleep?” I stifle a yawn but not very successfully, seeing Damen hovering over me, an amused look on his face.
“There’s no time in Summerland.” He smiles. “And trust me, I’ll try not to take it personally that you nodded off.”
I stiffen, wide awake now and gaping. “Wait—you mean I fell asleep while you—while we—” I shake my head, cheeks heating to a thousand degrees. Hardly believing I actually fell asleep—while we were kissing.
He nods, luckily looking more amused than mad. But still I hide my face with my hands, horrified by even the thought of it.
“That is so embarrassing. Seriously, I’m so—” I shake my head and cringe. Needing no further testimony to how exhausted I’ve been after everything that’s happened in the past week.
He rises from the bed, helping me to stand when he says, “Don’t be. Don’t be sorry or embarrassed. You know, in a way it was kind of nice. I don’t recall that ever happening before and you don’t really get to experience many firsts after the first—oh, hundred or so years.” He laughs, pulling me to him as his arms wrap tightly around my waist. “Feeling better?”