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Ronan is strictly the love-‘em-and-leave-‘em type.
“Who is he?”
I regard my newest regular, Tynan O’Shea. He’s polite and quiet—for now. But he’s a brewing storm, haunted by the murder of the girl he loved. I don’t know much about magical politics or its villains. In fact, as a human, I shouldn’t know about magickind at all. Some indiscreet wand waving after too much liquor changed that a few months back. But this Mathias d’Arc bastard, who killed Tynan’s beloved Auropha, sounds right scary. If I can help the grieving wizard, even by merely listening to him reminisce, I’ll do it.
If there’s one thing I understand, it’s loneliness.
“Just a regular who thinks he can crook his finger and I’ll shag him.”
Tynan pauses. “Has he ever kissed you?”
“No.” Not that Ronan hasn’t tried. Not that I haven’t thought about his masculine slash of a mouth devouring mine, demanding all from me as I lose my fingers in his midnight hair. Of my palms skimming his five o’clock shadow while his green eyes fuse to mine as he sinks deep inside me…
“Hmm. Ever…been with a wizard?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Tynan manages a grin. “If you’d slept with one, you would know.”
“Really?” I drop my voice. “You look human enough. Prettier perhaps, but I assumed the anatomy works the same.”
“Yes and no.” He doesn’t elaborate.
“Come on, then. Spill. What’s different?”
“Everything I’m about to tell you must remain secret. We cannot allow word of our existence to spread.”
Not that I’d ever reveal anything, but if I tried, everyone would think I’m barking mad. “Of course.”
“Wizards are mostly like human men, except we must…indulge often to power our magic or we die.”
“Die? You’re serious?”
“Quite. Because of that, we have more”—he clears his throat—“stamina.”
So Ronan wasn’t exaggerating when he swore he’d shag me all night long? Even the thought makes me flush hot.
I haven’t bothered with sex since discovering that my fiancé, Edward, had a revolving door to his bed. Ronan has the same flaw. Yes, according to Tynan, the manwhore has a good reason, but watching him choose someone else almost every night…it hurts.
Still, I’m foolishly tempted to let Ronan break my celibate streak. Tynan’s whispers are only making me imagine a night with him. Even the details he’s divulged make me hot and fidgety. “I see.”
His voice drops another octave. “We also have extra senses.”
Fascinating. “Such as?”
“Wizards have an instinct that enables them to sense their lifelong mates. We know in an instant if a woman is ours.”
“One look and…?”
Tynan shakes his head. “One taste. Kissing her lips, licking away her tears, laving away her sweat…lapping up her arousal—any will tell us if she’s destined to be ours. Making love to her only cements the belief.”
“You’re saying that Ronan could snog me and determine if I was his…mate?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not using that word to mean a friend, I presume, but a wife?”
Tynan hesitates. “Deeper. More permanent.”
