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and this time he wouldn’t get up for anything. He would be stalwart.
He would fade, and the world would be a better place. He walked
around to the front of the cottage. He would bolt all the doors.
“Beck?”
It was another feminine voice that pulled him away from his
mission, but this one he didn’t recognize. He looked down and saw a
petite, curvy woman with a mass of wavy brown hair. It wasn’t
brown. There was red and blonde in it, too. It was a glorious auburn.
The lighter places caught the late afternoon light and sparkled. It was
beautiful and a little wild. A proper Fae lady would never wear her
hair so wild. Her clothes were travelling clothes, and they weren’t
perfectly proper either. She had left the top of the neck unbuttoned.
Cian was fascinated by her creamy skin. He could see the soft rise of
her breasts. She was beautiful.
“No, sweetheart,” a very familiar voice corrected her. Cian
recalled that his cousin had shown up last night, riding that flying
vehicle of his. Cian used to love to ride on the back of it. Dante had
thrown a fit when he tried to take it apart, though. “That’s not Beck.”
“Leave me alone,” Cian said, trying to take his eyes off the lovely
woman in front of him. There was nothing cold about that one. Her
hazel eyes were looking up at him with great concern. Those eyes
pulled at him. Still, he heard himself talking to his cousin. “Go away,
Dante. I have to go to bed. I’m tired.”
Dante’s sigh told of his weariness of the subject. “Not again.”
118
Sophie Oak
The woman reached out and put her hand to his chest. Her skin
was warm after the chill of the pond. “No, Cian. You need to get dry,
and I need to brush out your hair. It’s a mess. It hasn’t been brushed
in weeks, it looks like.”
