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“Does this mean we can’t spend more time together?” Olivia asked.
“No, but we can’t do that again. As long as we keep a respectable distance from each other, I should be fine.” His lips curved into a teasing smile. “Disappointed?”
She was, but she’d rather jump off the building than admit it. “Haven’t you heard? Waiting makes it better.”
His strangled laughter lightened the weight over her chest. “Waiting. I guess that’s true. I’ve waited seven hundred years. What’s another few weeks?”
“Few weeks? You’re pretty full of yourself.”
Olivia held her ground as he glided forward, though he stopped three feet away. Guess he didn’t trust himself to get too close yet.
“You won’t win the waiting game with me, Olivia. I’ve had centuries to practice. How long can you last before you beg for my mouth on you again?”
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest to hide her hardened nipples, but it was impossible to hide the scent of her arousal from him.
Marek swallowed. “I should leave for the day, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight? But—”
“To translate the grimoire,” he said with a knowing smile. “You still want my help, don’t you?”
Duh. “Yes, tonight,” she grumbled.
Then he was gone, leaving her alone to suffer her thoughts and needs.
Marek returned that night to help her with the grimoire. Nothing happened other than business and some longing looks. He kept a respectful distance, which meant he sat on one couch while she was on another, and the next few days passed in a peaceful blur. Olivia spent the afternoons practicing magic—she even performed her first spell to make flowers bloom—and the nights with Marek whenever he had free time, translating the grimoire.
As he’d promised, he didn’t touch her again, afraid of losing control. Olivia, for her part, didn’t tempt him. She had no right to torture him, to test his boundaries, if she wasn’t ready to deal with the consequences.
When he’d explained the mating bond to her, staring at her like she was a priceless diamond, she’d almost said yes. Yet, the idea of him knowing her every thought, every secret, had terrified her shitless.
Would she ever be ready? And how long was he willing to wait? From her experience, men weren’t patient creatures. Two of her exes had dumped her because she hadn’t been ready to become intimate with them. A third one had called things off when she’d said no to moving in together.
Alright, maybe the last one had been her fault. She hadn’t been ready to give up her freedom, to share her space, but Sung hadn’t even attempted to discuss her concerns. He’d simply ended their relationship in a huff.
But Marek was different. He’d been understanding and patient, and he hadn’t pushed her about it since they talked. Well, like he said, he was an immortal without a ticking clock counting down to his death, which helped.
Not to mention, he hadn’t been willing to divulge his secret. His reluctance to share, though hurtful, made her trust him even more.
It made him more real. Made this relationship more real.
Not everything in life was rainbows and unicorns. She’d learned that the hard way, though forgetting it had been easy when her heart would feel full to bursting every time she laid eyes on Marek.
The afternoon began the same as the previous few. Olivia woke up by herself in the humongous bed with a bone-deep yearning for Marek. After a quick shower, she ordered food. Marek would be proud of her. She’d been eating three meals a day regularly. For someone who didn’t eat, he was strangely obsessed with her food consumption.
That’s because he worries about you.
Her insides turned all warm and fuzzy.It’s just food, not a declaration of love.
For some, food is the language of love.Love wasn’t just something one said but shown through their actions. Her parents hadn’t been vocal about their feelings, but they’d taken care of her. Ensured she had everything she needed.
Olivia could count the number of times she’d said “I love you” to her family, but she’d drop everything to come to their aid. Wasn’t that more important than saying the words?
But it wouldn’t hurt to say them, either. Words didn’t come easy to Olivia, at least not the spoken ones. The mating bond’s ability to share things telepathically might work in her favor. Marek would know her feelings without her having to articulate them: how her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, how the last few days with him had been the happiest since her parents’ passing, how she was terrified of that happiness slipping through her grasp.
And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish to know exactly how he felt about her either.
“You’ve received an email from Dr. Casava. Response required,” Tristan announced as Olivia finished eating.
