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“If you don’t want—”
“I do, bonbon. Iwant. Any. All.” He cleared his throat before adding, “But I think it’s not that simple. I think . . . my mandate to marry is creating a compulsion.”
I sighed. “Like a hex on us?”
“Fae magic isn’t like that. My people are conduits. The magic is sort of . . . not sentient, really, but it has Will. Our bond is being blessed, and so we are being encouraged—”
“To boink.” I shook my head. The will of the fae magic was compelling us to boink like bunnies, as if my own lust wasn’t overpowering enough.
Chapter Seventeen
I wassilent as Eli drove me home. I wasn’t angry with Eli, but I was angry. I hated things that controlled me, that overpowered my will. It was part of why I resented mydraugrside. I wanted to be more than my impulses, hungers, and mood. I wanted to logic my way through trouble or, if that failed, swing a sword at it.
Swords don’t do a helluva lot on fae magic.
Okay, maybe they could if the magic was tethered. Swords were steel, and steel was the antithesis of all things fae.
“Could I stab something that was made of faery magic and nullify it because I used steel?” I asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
“Probably.” Eli shrugged. “Are you pondering stabbing me, Geneviève?”
“Not you.”
“Or you, I hope,” he said lightly. “The parts being . . . encouraged by our betrothal are not parts made for stabbing.”
I snorted. “I’m not above making stabbing-of-the-naked-sort references right now, and that’s weird. You get that, right? I’m not like this.”
“Aroused?”
“No, smart ass. Out of control.” I scowled.
“Having been on the receiving side of your temper a few times, I beg to differ.” Eli sighed. “You are impulsive, impatient, and rather aggressive, bonbon.”
“Fine but—”
“You shoved me onto this very car in the parking lot of the morgue, Geneviève.”
“Fine!” I was more than my libido, more than magic. I pouted briefly. I hated being wrong, but I also hated being out of control unless I chose that.
I glanced at him. “We always have sparked a bit.”
“I believe that is a mild but accurate assessment.”
I stopped trying to explain. He understood, just as I understood his point. My secret weapon in dealing with our sometimes-volatile connection was that I knew when to shut up. Usually. And he did, too.
Eli, luckily, was not bothered by silence. He drove, albeit slower than usual. I was simply at a loss. The choices were impossible. I wanted him before we were engaged, so I couldn’t even blame all of my pent-up need on the magic.
We were almost at my door when I blurted out, “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know.”
“So where does that leave us?” I asked.
He didn’t reply until we were at my building. He cut off the engine and turned to face me. “Do not answer now,” he started.
Anything that started there wasn’t good.
“There are surrogates,” Eli said, his voice calm in the way that said he was expecting an explosion.
