Page 62 of Bound

Because of what Evrest Cimarron was about to add to his affirming echo of it.

“An oak is solid until lightning strikes it. A glacier can be melted by the smallest spark. Even granite is invincible until an earthquake splits it open.”

A long beat stretched into a tense minute before Brick realized the man was really done with the poetry. That it was his turn again—to come to the right connection from it.

More importantly, to do the right thing with it.

More precisely, the things he wouldn’t be doing.

Like looking at Jayd Cimarron and mentally stripping her. Like letting her see he was doing that. Like letting her act out on that observation with her mesmeric eyes and her tantalizing touch. Like telling her he liked it with any number of growls, groans, strokes, and stares of his own.

Not anymore.

Goddammit, he meant it this time. He wouldn’t be the lightning that decimated her. Or the fire that dissolved her. Or the fault line that split her.

More than anything, he refused to be the brick that shattered her.

Chapter Eleven

A throng of palais staffers had already gathered in the commissary, working together like Kris Kringle’s elves before Yule time.

Jayd entered but kept close to the wall for a long moment, besieged by conflicting emotions as she observed the scene.

Half her mind was heavy, wishing it really was December and everyone was working toward the upcoming joy of the Yule. But the other half was full of endless pride, brimming its way to her smiling lips. Even if these people decided she should never again wear an Arcadian crown on her head, they could never rip her homeland’s banner from across her heart. Nothing would change her love for this island, a beautiful and bountiful reflection of its spirited, steadfast denizens. Nothing.

As fully as that truth consumed her, another took over with equal intensity.

From the second her gaze found Brickham once more.

A cold front hit as her heartbeat tripled. All the oxygen in her blood went to fascinating new places, eliciting a silent gurgle in her throat. Three seconds later, she was back to feverishly hot.

And she was absolutely, unequivocally, not sorry about it.

She watched, lips slightly parted, as he leaned on the mop that had apparently taken the place of his other stick. As he shifted, the last rays of the sunset snuck across the shipping dock where he stood with Ozias. The nectarine and mango colors made him look more formidable than ever. His wide shoulders were flexed. His jawline was high and proud. His chest was a carved masterpiece despite the tight T-shirt he had re-donned after their passion in her suite.

Perfect passion. From a magnificent man.

Nobody watching him now would think he had been half-conscious and bullet-ridden less than a week ago. Maybe he really was a magical force of nature. Or maybe he was more of what he looked like right now: a warrior, bold and audacious, staring into the mouth of a feral dragon. Well, sun beams that looked that way.

She had several more metaphors ready too, but Emme appeared from a door near the loading dock. She was carrying an office supplies storage box with a closed laptop resting on the lid. Oz greeted her warmly, though Brickham stared as if she had just shared an ice cream cone with a tuberculosis victim.

To Emme’s credit, she still smiled sweetly up at him. After her unrequited diplomacy was thwarted, she pivoted and approached Jayd. “Insane idiot wanted go out on patrol with Oz, Jag, and the other battalions,” she explained. “I told him it is one thing for a man to put mind over matter when orgasms are promised, but that—”

Jayd choked again. “You said what?”

“Last I checked, Highness, orgasm was not a forbidden word.”

“By the Creator.” Jayd dropped her head into a splayed hand.

“Save the exasperation for when you really need it, hmmm? Because if Trystan Carris and his band of merrymakers decide to pass Go or any of the other logical places and come right here to collect you instead of two hundred dollars, your stubborn Lancelot needs to rest.” The woman’s face took on careful but insightful energy. “And perhaps, if that suggestion came from you as well as me…”

“How about better than a suggestion?” she returned. “He and I can work on setting up the intake table together.”

“Perfect!”

She did not give Emme more than a few seconds for an ovation. “But only on one condition. You get off that, as well.” She gestured toward her maid’s giant cast. “Looks like Ayce is getting some folks together to make up food boxes and fold blankets.”

The woman’s instant blush was not a shock. “Ayce? Oh…ermmm…he is here?”