Briggs gave her a look. “You think I’m that weak?”
“It has nothing to do with how strong you are,” she said in exasperation. “It’s magic and magic doesn’t care if you can chop up an entire tree in half an hour or that you’re nine feet tall with a body like Thor’s.”
“I’m seven feet tall,” Briggs said.
She waved him off. “Whatever. The point is, if you touch me, you’ll want to have sex with me.”
Briggs studied her for a few seconds before he said, “You’re pretty full of yourself, huh, little witch? I have more willpower than you think, and it’ll take more than fantastic tits and a pretty smile to keep my interest.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she snapped. “I just told you it has nothing to do with willpower or strength. It’s magic, and you can’t resist magic using willpower or your big, stupid muscles.”
He just shrugged. “Sleep in my bed, and I’ll show you how well I resist you and your magic.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she hated the immediate thread of lust and trickle of magic that washed over her. For one insanity filled moment, she was overcome with the urge to touch Briggs, to show him exactly how powerful her magic could be, and make him eat that smug little grin right off of his own face.
Instead, she glared at him and took a step back. “I’d rather freeze to death than sleep in the same bed as you.”
“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said.
Seething inside, her knuckles glowing a soft green as her magic responded to her emotions, she stomped back into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.
“Asshole!” she snapped to the room, clenching her hands into tight fists. The vine plants hanging from the ceiling shivered delicately, and a few of the vines from the pots closest to her grew in length to gently wrap around her body, squeezing lightly as their ends brushed repeatedly over her cheeks.
Their gentle motion soothed her, and after a few minutes, she took a deep breath. “That’s better, thank you.”
The vines squeezed her once in reply before retreating. Her magic faded, and Cece blinked rapidly before staring up at the plants. Holy shit. That had never happened before. She reached up and touched one of the lowest-hanging vines. It didn’t grow or respond in any way, and feeling a little silly, Cece climbed under her nest of blankets and buried her face under them as well.
She was already starting to shake from the cold, but she hugged the blankets tighter to her body and closed her eyes. Screw Briggs and his arrogance. There had to be a way to sever their magical connection, and she’d search the ends of the goddamn earth to find it.
CHAPTER 11
Cece didn’t look up when Briggs joined her in the living room. She stared at her computer screen, pretending she didn’t notice the giant polar bear shifter standing next to the couch.
The minutes ticked by until she couldn’t stand the silence and the tension. She stared at him. “Can I help you?”
“I chopped more wood and stacked it against the house beside the door,” Briggs said. “It’ll last you the winter, assuming your furnace doesn’t completely shit the bed.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to spend the entire morning chopping wood. You’re my bodyguard, not my…”
“Not your what?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. She would eat hot nails before she admitted she was about to say boyfriend. What was wrong with her? Briggs was a giant jerk, and she hated him.
Yeah, well, that giant jerk just saved you hours of chopping wood, so maybe you could stop being such a dick to him?
Her inner voice was right, and she tried to give Briggs a more natural smile. “Thank you for doing that.”
He shrugged and dropped onto the sectional, keeping plenty of space between them. “What are you doing?”
She stared at her laptop screen. “Looking for a spell or a potion to break this conduit thing.”
A low growl escaped his mouth, and without looking at him, she said, “Why are you growling at me?”
“I’m not,” he said.
“That was a growl,” she said.
“I thought you said it couldn’t be broken.”
