Page 120 of Revealing Fate

“I’m busy,” Karrick said, returning his attention to his drawing.

Imogen’s mouth fell open. “You’re busy?” He was dismissing her? Her? After looking at her like that? “What the hell do you mean, you’re busy?”

“You’re a smart lady, Imogen. I’m sure you can work your mind around it.”

Imogen reared back. “Oh, now I’m Imogen?”

This was not at all the reception she’d imagined upon entering. Not after witnessing all the heat in those cold eyes.

“That is your name, is it not?” Karrick swiveled in his seat, facing her once more, gaze penetrating, piercing. “Maybe you prefer Elder.”

Imogen’s hands found her hips. “What the hell crawled into your bed and bit you?”

Karrick’s brow dropped. “Not you, that’s for sure.”

If she’d had something heavy or sharp on her, she’d have thrown it at him. “Karrick, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He stood. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?” He prowled toward her, big body closing in. “Four days ago, I had three guards show up and clap me in irons without warning. ‘Summoned by the elder,’ they said. I thought they were taking me to you.”

“They were taking you to me,” she snapped.

Karrick’s voice dropped to a growl. “Oh, yes. They took me to that fucking room, and there you were, waiting for me.” His glare pinned her with accusation. “And then you dragged me in and tossed me at another fucking woman.”

He was close enough now for Imogen to count the few small freckles dotting the deep brown planes of his cheeks. “I didn’t have a choice,” she said. “I couldn’t have Vulgren suspect anything.”

“You did have a choice, though. You could have told me. You could have warned me.”

Imogen sighed. “You’re right. I should have told you. I…panicked.”

Karrick’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t panic.”

She huffed. “Okay, well then I’m a coward,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see any way to avoid the inevitable, and I fucking hate the inevitable, and I couldn’t stand the thought of⁠—”

Karrick’s mouth claimed her retort before it was halfway past her lips. His sudden advance caught her entirely off guard. Imogen was not a woman prone to swooning, but the uninhibited urgency of Karrick’s kiss had her knees weakening, heart fluttering, and brain sloshing out lazy, unfinished thoughts. Perhaps she was a swooner.

Whatever her brain’s incapacities, her body certainly knew how to respond. Finally, it said. Heat flooded her limbs with strength. The instincts of her second form purred with each stroke of Karrick’s tongue, opening for him, urging him to take her and claim what was his. Because she was his. Imogen hadn’t loved another after Karrick, hadn’t so much as sought another’s company. Honestly? She had been fully prepared to spend the rest of her life without intimate companionship. She had her mother, her friends, and relative safety. What did she need of a man?

In truth? Nothing. Imogen didn’t need a man.

She needed this man. And he, quite obviously, needed her.

Karrick didn’t waste precious time. He didn’t languish. There was nothing leisurely about his pursuit. One moment, he was clothed; the next, he stood before her in naked glory. Imogen only got a glimpse before his mouth found hers again. Then her robes were falling away. Karrick had the presence of mind to lay them over the chair so they didn’t wrinkle. Imogen didn’t care. She just wanted the feel of his skin against hers, those big palms cradling her hips, that mouth on her breasts.

“Gods, you smell like a wet dream,” Karrick growled into the column of her throat.

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” she replied breathlessly.

He smiled, and Imogen felt the press of his lips along her neck when she swallowed. “You smell like an orchard in bloom. Like wading through tall grass.” Karrick planted another kiss. “Like sex in the spring under a cloudless sky.” He hummed. “From now on, that’s where I’m going when I sleep. I’ll have you there tonight, laid out beneath the lemon trees, hours after you’ve gone.”

“I’m here,” Imogen said, reaching for him. “Have me now.”

Karrick did not require further encouragement. He backed her against the wall and hefted her by the hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, felt him press against tender flesh. Anticipation zinged through her. “You know there’s a bed behind you.”

Fierce eyes, so deep a brown they looked black, bore into hers. “I don’t want you on a bed like this is some common thing between us. I want you anywhere, everywhere else.” He leaned his weight into her, pinning her with his body, eliciting a little gasp. “I want you in all the wrong places, Imogen Atwell, so you can make them right.”

Karrick positioned himself and entered her with a delicious, powerful thrust. Imogen released a groan, her head falling back against the wall. Karrick’s right hand freed itself from her hip and covered her mouth.

“Shh,” he whispered. “As much as I’d love to make you scream, now would be an awkward time for your starry-eyed bodyguard to attempt a rescue.”