She had to get up. Strangely, she knew, without looking at her watch, that there wasn’t much left of the day. If she wanted to scout around and try to find the trail of what she was looking for, she would have to get moving. Andre had explained to her that he slept during the day and wouldn’t wake up until evening. He was a heavy sleeper, he said. If she woke first, not to worry, he’d be up soon after.
Andre also made her grit her teeth when he’d said, in his commanding, sexy voice, that she shouldn’t leave the cave under any circumstances, to wait for him. She didn’t like bossy. Or commanding. Still, it was sexy on him, but then everything was.
Teagan took a deep breath and forced her eyes open. Andre’s chest was pressed against her face. One of his arms wrapped around her waist. She could tell by the way it felt that he was not only asleep, but sound asleep. His leg was over her thighs, pinning her to him. She didn’t move because it felt nice up against him.
He’d carried her to the raised mattress. It was not too soft and not too firm, exactly how she liked her mattresses. More, it was far better than her sleeping bag and the ground. She couldn’t believe the sheets were clean. So was the blanket. That made no sense at all. Even more strange, the faint scent was lavender, one she particularly loved. How sheets and blankets in the wild of the Carpathian Mountains managed to smell like her favorite scent, she had no idea. Still, it was wonderful, and she wasn’t going to complain.
She didn’t remember Andre getting into bed with her. Surely she would remember an event that big. Yikes. She was actually in bed with Mr. Gorgeous and his very hot accent. Just lying next to him sent all kinds of very erotic and inappropriate thoughts through her head. And visions. All sexy. Some of the things made her blush. Okay. All of the images made her blush, but some were impossible to do, weren’t they? And why was she lying next to Mr. Gorgeous thinking of things he could do to her that she’d never even heard of?
She’d never woken up in a bed with a man, and even though he was asleep, she wasn’t certain what to do. She didn’t want to wake up. The weird thing was, she couldn’t hear or feel his heartbeat—just like before when he’d been injured. He’d been a monk. Maybe they taught that in the monastery. He had very long hair. She loved his hair, although she would never have thought she’d be a fan of long hair, but if that was a monk kind of thing—and all this time she thought monks were bald—maybe she could be a little grateful that he had wanted to be a monk.
“You don’t look monkish,” she murmured. “You’re too gorgeous.” What if all the monks in the monastery were hot? “I can just see the monk at the gate. ‘Sorry, buddy, you’re not hot enough to be one of us. We’re the hot monks. We only allow gorgeous men like Andre inside these gates. That’s the reason we’re up here in the clouds—to hide away from all the women of the world so we don’t wreak havoc among them.’”
She pressed her face against his chest. “Did you escape, Andre? Are they looking for you because you’re the one they use to measure the hotness of any applicants?”
Sivamet, go back to sleep. You make me smile when I should be resting.
She went very still. She heard him in her mind. He wasn’t just reading her thoughts, he was communicating with her, and his heart was still not beating where she could hear or feel it. He heard her. While he was sleeping. He heard her.
“Now I’m totally embarrassed. You weren’t supposed to hear that. And why isn’t your heart beating properly?”
She ran her hand over his heart. She lifted her palm and replaced it with her lips. A compulsion. She couldn’t stop herself. Strangely, she felt as if she’d done that before. She dared to use the tip of her tongue, to slide it over the very place his pulse should be.
Do not play with fire, csitri. I am a man, after all, not a saint.
There was lazy amusement in his voice. He didn’t move. Not a ripple of a muscle. Still, he knew she was playing with fire.
“I have to get up.”
No.
One word. Authoritative. Very Andre when he wasn’t being the sweetest man on earth. Bossy almost. No, super bossy. She wasn’t the kind of woman who did bossy very well. Ask her grandmother. Ask her three older sisters. Ask anyone.
She lifted his heavy arm and slipped out from under it. His leg was an altogether different proposition.
Teagan.
There it was, the voice that made her go weak. She didn’t move for a moment, because the way he poured emotion into his voice curled her toes and stole the air from her lungs. She almost wanted to obey his commanding “no.” Almost. But she didn’t want to stay in bed. She had work to do and she doubted if she could climb around a mountain in the dark.
She shifted his leg, withdrawing her own in one surprising burst of strength and determination. She was free, but something kept her right there, glued to his side. She was reluctant to leave him unprotected while he was sleeping the sleep of the dead.
Her body felt strange and sluggish, like she was trying to move through quicksand. Even her mind felt fogged and a little hazy. If they hadn’t been up for hours talking, she might have thought something had been in the tea, but she knew better. Determined, she forced her body into a sitting position.
Stay here, Teagan.
She actually felt a compulsion to obey. It was strong, and that scared her more than the command in his voice. She had never wanted to obey anyone, not from the time she was a baby. Grandmother Trixie often regaled anyone who would listen with tales of how even before she could walk, she didn’t like anyone telling her what to do.
Feeling as if she wanted to oblige him when he used that tone with her shocked her. More, it told her she was getting in over her head, and it was way too soon for that. If she felt that way now, what would it be like if she fell in love with him? She could never disobey Grandmother Trixie because she loved her so much. Loving Andre was out.
She turned her head to glare at him, but she couldn’t see his face. Or his eyes. His hair covered both. She took a breath. It wasn’t his fault that everything in her wanted to surrender to him. She realized she didn’t want to leave him. Not just because he was unprotected, but because she needed to be with him. That was even more terrifying.
Did he feel the same way? Was that why Andre’s sweetness had turned bossy? Maybe he was as frightened of what was happening between them as she was. She didn’t want him to feel afraid or sad or so alone, like she’d felt when she was in his mind. Her throat burned. Her eyes stung. For him. For his life. For the fact that her life had been so wonderful in spite of losing her mother before she ever had a chance to know her. Andre’s life had clearly been so different.
Once she felt the onset of tears, it was imperative to get away from him. She didn’t cry in front of anyone. Not ever. She was the tough girl in martial arts, the one that could hang no matter how banged up she got. She was the same when she climbed. She refused to give in to the panic attacks when she was up over thirty feet on a rock that was mostly slab. Well, okay, she cried her eyes out, but then she got ahold of herself and climbed even when her heart beat so hard she thought she’d have a heart attack.
For the first time she tried to answer him back, mind to mind. Stay asleep. I just need a little alone time.
She gasped and pulled back, touching her fingers to her lips. Sorrow was in his mind. Terrible images of battles. Of blood. Of death. Of friends. He hadn’t just been in law enforcement in some capacity, he had been a soldier of some kind as well. He’d seen terrible things. It was no wonder he had sought the peace of a monastery.