Imperceptibly at first. Then, stronger. A definitive silvery light gently surrounding us. Before, I called forth moonlight to protect myself. Now, I wanted to manifest it away from mybody. Convince it to shape itself to my will. I leaned forward slightly in my seat. “If you’re so confident I won’t be able to grab it from you, then how come you’re still gripping it in both of your hands? Why not set it down?” I taunted him, eyes intently focused on the object in his hands. Corvin looked at me with the same predatory focus, his grin cracking a fraction wider. In a gesture of mock acquiescence, he slowly lifted his hands away from the pillow.
It was my opening.
Even if I had no idea if what I was about to try would work or not. With his hands raised above his head,I struck.Drawing upon my powers, I directed the moonlight to take solid form, summoning silvery restraints.
The moonlight in the carriage coalesced—
And bound itself around both of Corvin’s wrists, just as he finished fully raising his arms in a fake gesture of surrender. I had his hands well and truly pinned above his head. The moonlight wrapping itself around his wrists with the same restrictive pressure, as if I had used a rope instead. He made no move to break his chains.
I leaned forward, our knees touching, grabbing for the pillow. “Nowthatbelongs to me,” I said in a saucy tone. Corvin’s nostrils flared, his eyes tracking mine, lips curving into a wicked smile. “Is this how you resolve all conflict?” he asked. “Bondage? Aren’t you trying todeterme from taking your stuff?” I reached down slowly, purposefully prolonging my victory, hand hovering above the pillow on his lap. “And so what if it is?” I responded cheekily, reaching for—
Corvin shifted form in a sudden blur of motion, causing my concentration to break and his moonlight restraints to vanish. Taken by surprise, I wrenched my hand back, leaving the pillow unguarded.
When Corvin took human form again, he was holdingmypillow.
I lunged for him.
Then the carriage hit a bump in the road, toppling me directly onto his lap.
Luckily for me, the soft pillow and Corvin’s body cushioned my fall.
His hand went instinctively to my hip, preventing me from banging against the side of the carriage.
His voice shone with amusement. “Would you look at that. You’re on top of me again. It does seem to be a theme with you. Twice already.” He winked at me. “It brings to mind that saying…what was it again? Oh yes, third time’s a charm.”
I scowled at him, finally yanking my pillow out of his hands. “I don’tcommiseratewith pillow thieves.”
He laughed, shooting me a roguish smile. “That’s too bad. Perhaps I’ll have to change my ways.”
“Maybe you will,” I huffed playfully. Corvin chuckled, slowly uncurling his fingers from my hip.
I returned to my side of the carriage. Tucking the pillow back under my head, I rested the side of my face against its plush surface, realizing it now smelled a whole lot more like Corvin. And when I fell back asleep, I dozed much less fitfully than before, my face pressed close to the pillow’s soft fabric and his masculine scent, like the sweet smell permeating the air after a fresh rainfall.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Upon arriving in Kincardine, the coachman dropped us off at the closest inn. It was a small establishment, with a large ornamental anchor hanging above the fireplace. The briny smell of seafood saturated the walls, as well as the clothing of the fishermen, who sat huddled around its central tables, drinking ale and playing cards. A woman in a flowing white gown sang quietly in the corner, strumming a soft melody on her harp. Every now and again, the entryway door would slam open, blasting a fresh sea breeze into the room.
I walked up to the innkeeper. “Do you have any rooms available?” I asked hopefully.
She nodded. “You’re in luck. We have one room remaining for the night.” Balancing a tray of bread and cheese against her side, she reached into her pocket for the key. I groaned, because I really didn’t want to have to find another spot to spend the night.
“That won’t work. We need two beds,” I responded. The woman’s eyes darted behind me, roving up and down Corvin’s tall frame. “Are you sure about that?” she asked, a suggestive lilt to her voice as she clucked her tongue at me in disapproval. “Now that’s a crying shame.”
I averted my gaze, heat rising up my neck. “If there’s really no other option—”
She handed over the room key. “No need to worry, dear. It’s a single room, but it has two beds.”
Corvin and I sat down at the corner table after filling our bowls from the communal cauldron hanging in the fireplace, simmering with fish stew. I placed the room key between us. “She only has a single room left. Two beds though,” I informed Corvin as he spooned a bite of stew into his mouth. “That works.” He lowered his voice, and I huddled closer to hear his next words. “Somebody tried to attack us today. We should stay in the same room anyway. It’ll be safer…”
“I agree,” I whispered back, staring into my bowl. Admittedly, our safety wasn’t the only question on my mind.What would it be like to share a room together?An image of Corvin, shirtless, dripping wet, emerging from the island lake, danced across my eyes. Followed by other images, things thathadn’thappened. Things I might enjoy. Like the feel of his skin against mine or the touch of his lips. The image shifted to us sharing a bed, bodies pressed close, his hands tangled in my hair—
“Are you finished?” Corvin asked.
I choked on my stew. “Wha-what?”
“Are you finished eating?” he repeated. “Or would you like another bowl?”
“This will be plenty. Thank you,” I responded, shoveling the last few mouthfuls of stew down my throat.
