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A blush covered her cheeks, and her fresh forest-rain scent rose in the air. “Why don’t you come inside?”
Maybe it was her choice of words, but he almost attacked her again.
Instead, he restrained himself, and as she headed toward the door, he quickly moved around her, pulling the door open so that she could go in before him.
This part of her treehouse complex housed her living room, kitchen, and dining room. Two separate doors led to different rope bridges, one leading up into the oak canopy, the other to a lower level.
She gestured to the one leading up. “My bedroom and bathroom are up there. I saved the highest space for sleeping. The lower level is for meditation and has a porch where I spend a lot of my time. I often have tea out there. Sometimes a beer or two.
“I like that.”
She smiled. “Then off the kitchen, is a third door that leads to my lower workrooms, one for storage and canning and the last for my gardening equipment and anything else pertaining to the function of my home.”
Malik approved of the overall craftsmanship. “You had some excellent workers on this project.”
“The best trolls. Every finish is superb.” A smooth, stained branch ran from floor-to-ceiling, supporting the kitchen island.
She’d built the house on larger lines than most, so even his Guardsman body felt comfortable in the space.
He felt something new coming from her however, and turned once more in her direction. She leaned against the supporting branch, her hands behind her and he caught her looking him up and down.
Then he saw something that both startled him yet made his leathers tight across the zipper. Small white fangs appeared and were now pressing onto her lower lip. Fangs smaller than a vampire’s.
He knew what they were at once: Wraith fangs.
“Willow?”
She lifted her gaze. Her hazel eyes were dark, her pupils dilated. “Yes?” Because of her fangs, she had a slight lisp.
She covered them quickly with her fingers and her cheeks flamed a dark peach color.
He went to her and took her hand away, so that he could see the sharp points again. Very carefully, he thumbed her lips and rubbed the edges of the fangs. “I don’t think I’ve seen anything more beautiful than these.”
“I didn’t mean to … it’s just that …”
“I know.” The time had come. “Why don’t you show me your bedroom, and I’ll happily let you tap in anywhere you want to.” Bold words.
In response, she almost fell, but he slid his arm around her waist, supporting her. “Knees buckled?”
“Uh-huh. It’s been a long time. Way too long. But please know nothing permanent can come of this.”
“I know, and I’m with you. We both need to stay focused on our se
parate duties. But right now, I’m going to focus on you.”
She whimpered softly, leaning her head against his shoulder.
He picked her up and flew her slowly out the door toward her bedroom. The fresh smell of the oak wood spilled over him.
When he crossed the solid wood bridge and reached the open doorway to her treehouse bedroom, he paused on the threshold. He didn’t usually attach a lot of meaning to sex, or even to where a woman slept. But something about this moment felt sacred. Once more he experienced the vibrations from deep in the earth as though Willow and now he had a connection to the land.
Miriam had been right; everything about his relationship with Willow felt very realm.
The room had windows on each side. And just like that, vines suddenly appeared at the long, open window above the bed. He had no doubt he was looking at Willow’s magic, and that the vines that grew at the base of the central oak, had just climbed into her room.
She moved in his arms and he set her down.
“Your vines are here.”
