Dead of Winter (The Arcana Chronicles #3)(64)

Both had given me pleasure—and heartache. . . .

Once I’d finished with the shower, I returned to my room. I locked the door behind me and removed my hoodie to bundle up for a pillow. Lying back in my sleeping bag, I stared at the ceiling. What was I going to do?

I felt connected to Aric in inexplicable ways. At his castle, he and I had settled in together. We’d read in his firelit study, talking through the night. We’d been happy, his home nearly becoming my own.

Jack and I had never lived together per se, always out on the road—

My bug-out bag! I’d left it in the bathroom, forgetting Jack’s harsh lessons. Maybe he should’ve been harder on me.

I rushed from the room, skidding to a stop in the hallway.

Aric had just exited the steamy bathroom. He wore a towel. Nothing else. His lean face was clean-shaven, his wet hair in disarray, his cheeks tinged with color.

He spied me there, his lips parting. His eyes began to glitter, and I was momentarily blinded by the sight of him. Like staring at the sun.

Glorious man.

When my gaze dipped, his magnificent body tensed, as if I’d struck him. Sinews of muscle contracted, making the black slashing tattoos across his torso appear to move.

I’d wanted to kiss every inch of those runes. I’d never had the chance.

A drop of water trickled down the center of his chest, past defined pecs and rigid abs to his blond goodie trail. . . . My mouth went dry.

He rasped, “You want this?”

I raised my gaze, gasping at the dark hunger in his expression. My mind blanked. Want his body? How could I not? He was pure temptation.

“I meant this”—he held up my bag—“but I could easily be persuaded to share anything else my wife might desire.”

Say something, Eves. Words would be good here.

He closed in on me, all lethal grace and harnessed power. I realized I’d been backing away from him when I met the wall. He kept coming until we were toe to toe.

The damp heat from his skin was like an embrace. Up this close, I could see the blond tips of his eyelashes.

He tossed my bag past me into the bedroom. Then his gaze dropped to my tank top. It hugged my breasts, outlining them.

“I recognize these clothes. It fills me with satisfaction to see you dressed in them. Not as much satisfaction as when I undress you, of course.”

He might be inexperienced, but he was naturally sensual—his every movement, his expressions, even the cadence of his accented words brought to mind promised pleasures.

I was out of my league.

“A week ago, you were naked in my bed for the second time. I kissed you. Petted you.” He eased down to say at my ear, “I was about to taste you once more.”

My breaths shallowed. “B-but then you broke my heart.”

“I’ll mend it. I’ll repair the damage I’ve done between us. In these games, I’ve trusted you when I shouldn’t have, and didn’t trust when I should have had faith.” He cupped my face with both palms. “If you could see your way to forgiveness . . .”

I bit my bottom lip. “I can forgive you. But that doesn’t mean I want to put myself in a situation like that again.” When he leaned his head in, I said, “Aric, we can’t kiss. I’m not doing anything with you. With either of you.”

Was he gauging my resolve? “Then we won’t kiss. Just let me touch your stunning face.” He caressed the backs of his fingers over one of my cheekbones, then along my jawline. “It’s a luxury I will always savor.”

I had to fight to keep my eyes open, to keep my body from moving against his.

“So beautiful. I won’t stop until you’re mine. I won’t ever rest. Es tevi mīlu.”

I breathed, “What does that mean?”

He smoothed his elegant fingers over me the way a sculptor would touch his statue. “I love you.”

Answering words bubbled up, but I couldn’t be in love with Aric. “There’s a difference between love and desire,” I said, reminding him—and myself.

“If all I wanted was a bedmate, then why do I feel such jealousy? Why was I racked with misery to be parted from you? For one like me, a week is a blink of an eye, yet it felt interminable.”

He laid his palms over my shoulders, ever so lightly grazing his thumbs over my throat. His hands shook, as if he was handling the most priceless treasure in the entire world. “By all the gods, I desire you, but you must know that you have my love. It’s given, sievā. Wholly entrusted to you. Have a care with it.”

I struggled to resist him. To remember why I should.

“Our bond goes back over lifetimes; you must feel it.”

I shook my head hard, an unspoken lie. I felt endless years between us, a tie that never died or faded. Something that endured epochs. Something mysterious and . . . good?

I thought, I feared, that he was my . . .

Soul mate.

“These days without you have been more miserable for me than all the centuries before.” He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, making my heart race. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me I’ll never have to know this desolation again.”

At that moment, I wanted to tell him anything he needed to hear—

Without warning, he lifted me against the wall, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck.