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When I nodded, he gave a voice command and low Celtic music filled the room. The singer had a voice like an angel, the kind that tugs at your heart.
He soaped up his hands again, gently cleaning the scratches on my throat.
“I owe you an apology, too. I thought you were safe in the garden. My father shouldn’t have been able to get to you. Like I told you, he was supposed to be confined to his apartment.”
“You were aware he was going blood mad?”
“Yeah.” A sigh. “You heard Avril—he killed a thrall last month.”
“Why didn’t you call us—I mean, Slayers, Inc.?” I corrected myself because I was no longer a slayer. Which felt...odd. Not bad, just odd.
“I don’t trust them, and I don’t want them on my island. And he was my sire—it was a tricky situation. But I thought we had it handled.” He shook his head. “I wish I knew how he got out of his apartment and made his way to the garden. I control the only entrances.”
“I’m pretty sure he dropped down from the ground floor level. But Lieutenant Prosper came in through my door.”
“Hell. Prosper overrode the security, then. He has the clearance to do it. I’ll have to do something about that.”
I traced a circle on his wet knee. “D’you think he let your father out?”
“I’m not sure. We had an agreement—an agreement Prosper initiated. I’ve never known him to break his word.”
“Then someone else released him. But why?”
“I don’t know. But whoever it was, I’ll find them.” He scooped up a palmful of water and rinsed the soap from my neck. “I can lick the scratches for you. They’ll heal faster.”
“They’re fine. Really.”
He grunted but didn’t argue. His hand slid down my stomach.
I took it and placed it between my legs. “Touch me.”
“You’re tired,” he objected, but his fingers slipped lower, toying with my clit.
Heated prickles filled my belly. I hooked an arm around the back of his head and turned my head to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Not that tired. I need this.”
I did. In this, at least, we were a perfect match.
And I ached to reconnect with him. To find a way back to where we’d been before tonight.
“Twilight.” My name was a groan. He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the side of my neck.
I nipped his earlobe. “Don’t make me beg.”
He gave my nipple a reproving tug with his free hand. “You’re not in charge here. I am.” His fingers dipped inside my sex, stroking me like he owned me. “And you like to beg.”
I moaned and shook my head, my attention on his magic fingers.
He hit a particularly sweet spot and my whole body went taut. The strain of the past day, the danger and fear, combined with pleasure in a powerful adrenaline cocktail that fizzed in my blood like a drug.
“But I won’t make you beg,” he decided. “Not tonight.”
“I’ll do anything you want. Just—”
“Do this?” He flicked a fingertip against my clit, then circled it.
My insides tightened. “Yes…that. But more.”
