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"This does not mean I will work with you."
She grinned. “You won't have any other choice, because you won't be able to keep your hands off me." He chuckled softly, then rolled them over so that he was lying on top. “Nothing like being comfortable with your own sexuality."
She kissed him again, soft and lingering. “It's more a case of being comfortable about us."
"There is no us—not beyond this, anyway."
She didn't bother disputing his claim. Until more of his memory returned, or until she was able to soap away some of the spell on his back, there wasn't much point. “Why do you stink of smoke?" The amusement and tenderness died in his eyes, the black depths becoming hard. Furious. “Because I made a bonfire of some pictures I discovered in Kinnard's rat hole." She frowned. “What sort of pictures?"
"Photos of a woman with brown hair and amber eyes. Her features were that of the dead woman we saw earlier.” He ran a finger down her cheek, sending warm tingles of desire shooting through the rest of her. Desire hadn't finished with her yet—but then, that wasn't exactly unusual when they made love. “But her eyes were rather like yours."
While the thought that Kinnard had been not only watching her, but taking photos of her, left her cold. The fury so evident in Michael's dark eyes, and the fact that he'd burned every one of those photos, made her heart sing. Deep down, he knew her, spell or no spell. And if he could now see her eyes were amber, did that mean the spell concealing her identity was fading, or that he was beginning to see beyond it?
"Kinnard will know you did it."
"I don't care."
She smiled. “So where was this rat hole?"
"Near the old reservoir.” His voice was distracted as he slid a little further down her body and began to trace the outline of her breasts with a soft fingertip.
"Near where he was hiding in the bushes?"
The look in his eyes set her pulse racing again. “You don't miss much." Neither did he. Especially when it came to getting her aroused. His touch was moving in on her breasts in ever tightening circles, sending goose bumps fleeing excitedly across her skin. “No." It came out breathlessly, and he chuckled—a throaty sound as seductive and as arousing as his touch.
“You may have started this, woman, but I intend to finish it—and a lot more leisurely this time." She had no problem at all with that, and normally she would have been right there with him. But there was the situation and the spell to consider as well. “Stinking like a bonfire? That's not at all seductive, you know."
His breath was warm on her skin as he dropped a kiss on a nipple. “Didn't seem to bother you a few moments ago."
"That's because my sense of smell was still half asleep."
"So what will it take to get you concentrating on the business at hand?"
"A bath.” She grinned. “We can share, if you like."
"I like.” He shifted back up, kissed her fiercely then rolled out of bed. “I shall go prepare it."
"And I'll get the soap and the salve for your shoulder."
"Hah,” he said, as he walked out. “I knew there was an ulterior motive."
"Yep. I went to all the trouble of seducing you just so I can tend to your wound."
"I wouldn't be at all surprised."
Grinning at the dry edge to his voice, she climbed out of bed and grabbed the second of her packs. The salve for wounds was there, but the soap Camille had given her to help wash the symbols off Michael's skin was gone. She swore softly. When he'd gone through her things, Kinnard must have recognized what it was and stolen it.
"And if you intend treating all my wounds with seduction first,” Michael continued, the sound of running water almost smothering his voice, “then I might be tempted to get wounded a little more." She grabbed the salve, some clothes, a towel and a washcloth, and headed for the bathroom. Steam was beginning to fill the room, and she reached for the small window, intending to open it. "Don't.” He caught her hand and pulled her close against him. His body was warm and hard against hers, and he was more than ready to play again. She couldn't help smiling. Vampires certainly had great stamina. And, thanks to the fact she now shared his life force, so did she.
"Keep your windows and blinds closed at all times,” he continued softly. “I don't want Kinnard spying on you."
She kissed him, then reached passed him, opening the small cabinet above the hand basin. Sitting right beside the toothpaste and toothbrush was a cake of soap. She grabbed it and tossed it into the water. It was better than nothing. “If you don't turn it off soon, that water is going to overflow."
"The water has bad timing.” He turned off the water and stepped into the bath. “What about your wound?"
"It wasn't bad, and I heal fast.” She unwound the bandage, and shifted her leg so he could see there was little more than a pink scar on her thigh.
"Unusually fast,” he commented and offered her a hand. “Coming in?" She tossed the washcloth into the water, placed her fingers in his and stepped in carefully. The water was almost too hot. She eased down, sighing softly as the water lapped at her breasts and began to relax her muscles.
