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She’d spent a lot of time in her imagination over her twenty-five years of life. Certainly, living in a tiny cottage in the woods with a family of six other people required a healthy dose of imagination. She’d conjured all sorts of adventures. Some stories made her the hero, while in others she was the villain. Sometimes, she was the damsel, and sometimes the savior. She’d constructed tales where she went to battle with an evil wizard or found buried treasure. And that was when she was awake. Her dream world was even better, vibrant and detailed, filled with fantasy and worlds where it was safe to explore, to be someone else, someone without all the expectations about who she was supposed to be.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice asked.
The resistance around her eased and she was turned, a tender grip around each of her arms.
When Brinna opened her eyes, Lucian Uraiahs, was holding her. His head was bent with its dark, honey hair, obscuring what she knew to be a breathtaking face. He seemed to be looking for something on her person, which didn’t make sense.
But a dream? Yes. That made sense. He’d never be holding her like this in reality. He was an arrogant snob, even if he was beautiful. Tall and sinewy, wide shouldered with a tapered waist, skin tanned by the sun. Brinna loved meeting him in her dreams, which happened quite frequently, even if it was all she had.
When he looked up, his eyes met hers. Such beautiful eyes, their golden intensity streaked with amber striations. “Are you bit?” he asked, dimples hinting in his cheeks even as he frowned. His wide hands slid up her bare arms until he was standing before her, inspecting her shoulders, her neck, her face.
Bit?
Dazed and unsettled, Brinna took a step away from the golden god and wrapped her arms around herself under her cloak. She shook her head. “I’m dreaming.”
It was the only explanation.
First, it was daytime. Golden light gilded Lucian’s beautiful features. Hadn’t it just been night time? Second, this version of Lucian looked concerned, interested. In her limited experience with him, that wasn’t Lucian Uraiahs. Aloof, condescending, even. In reality, she’d only ever seemed an obligation, to him.
Stars, he was beautiful, and her breath struggled against that awareness as he tilted his head to the side, studying her. She smiled. “I am really good at this. This is going to be fun.”
Lucian’s eyebrows, a shade darker than his golden hair, lowered. “Excuse me? Good at what?”
Confirmation she was dreaming. The real Lucian Uraiahs would never condescend to be confused.
She looked him up and down, smirking at having the upper hand. This was why she loved her dreams because she’d never have the upper hand in reality. Her eyes caught first in the varied hues of his hair, hanging around his face, then roved over the hint of golden stubble gracing the strong planes of his features.
At her perusal, his eyebrows rose over his glittering eyes.
She continued over the contours of his throat, revealed by his loosened tie and the undone top buttons of his shirt. Her eyes slid across his broad shoulders, still covered in the sleek gray fabric of his suit jacket, then down the plane of his chest. When she got to his pelvis, she tilted her head, then allowed her gaze to travel down his legs, shown off in the slim fit of his trousers. Finally, she dipped her gaze to his dapper shoes, displaying his ankles and the golden skin on the tops of his feet.
“Seen enough?” he asked.
She’d had dreams like this before. Gorgeous man. Exotic, warm location. The promise of something physical to release her pent-up frustration. Looking at this masculine conjuring, excitement swept through her at this realistic manifestation of Lucian. He was so detailed, and as often as she’d dreamed of him, he’d never have been standing with her looking so perplexed.
No. The Lucian she knew would smirk at her, offer her sarcasm. Then he’d run away.
She stepped toward him, pressed both palms against his chest, then spread her fingers wide.
His muscles tensed under her touch. “What are you doing?”
“I haven’t ever created one to look as perfect as you. But it makes sense. You are magnificent.”
“You’re in shock.” He grabbed her hands and removed them, but didn’t release her.
The warmth of his touch sizzled up her arms. She looked from his hand wrapped around her wrists up to his face. “Shock? No. I’m just dreaming.”
He squeezed her wrists. “This is real,” he insisted.
“You’d never be here with me. Not for real.”
“What?” He released her, then. “That isn’t true. I’m with you here, now. For real.”
She laughed softly. “But you’re different from the others I’ve dreamed up. They’re usually darker. More dangerous.”
“Wait.” Lucian’s brows dipped again. “I’m very dangerous.”
Her eyes snapped up to his, and she laughed. “Oh. Really? You look more like I’ve conjured someone from the realm of Elysian in need of wings. Maybe I should add some.”
