As he set her on her feet, Gabrielle looked around her. He caught a glimpse of her face and knew he’d done the right thing. She looked as if she could hardly believe her eyes.
“What is this place?”
“Our home for the moment. A safe one. We cannot leave the others too long. I will have to help Fane defend the ancients from the assassins, but there is no way those hunting us will be able to recover from our attack tonight. So, kessake, we have this night to continue our discussion without interruption.” Deliberately he kept his voice low. Neutral.
She raised her chin and went to step away from him. His hand snaked out and his fingers shackled her wrist, preventing movement.
“Dig up an old grave?” he repeated.
Her large gray eyes softened and he caught a hint of amusement. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe not so much now. I think the corpse would have been really happy with that carpet in your old place. I like this.” She looked around her again.
“Gabrielle.” He said her name in a low voice. Softly.
She turned back to him, her gaze a little wary. Finally. He was getting somewhere. He wanted her to see him. Just him.
He bent his head and took her mouth. There was no thought. His body just reacted, just needed, and he dragged her to him, his tongue stabbing deep, his mouth hot and urgent. She didn’t hesitate. She opened for him. Went wild for him. Her mouth as ravenous as his.
It took restraint and discipline not to keep kissing her. His body was already hot and hard and aching. He knew he could have her. She would give herself to him without hesitation, just as she’d kissed him. Holding nothing back. Her body was his. She’d given him that, committed herself that far. He thought that would be enough for a while, but he found he wanted more. It was that little rebellion. The “dig up a grave” that got under his skin.
He lifted his head, his gaze searching hers. “Tell me what else you need tonight. Look around. Clothes? Anything at all to make you feel more comfortable.”
“I actually did ask my sister how to do the clothes thing,” Gabrielle admitted. “I like nice clothes. Although in the evenings when I was by myself, before I was Carpathian, I would sit in my comfy sweats and sip a glass of merlot. It was nice to wind down after dealing with hot viruses.”
“What else did you ask your sister to teach you?” He took her hand and tugged her across the room to the chairs in front of the crackling fire.
“The first thing I wanted to learn was shapeshifting. I loved the idea of flying. It seemed like it would be pure freedom.”
He had never thought of it that way. Not once. Shifting and flying was something he took for granted. The ability had never been a gift to him, but seeing it through her eyes, shapeshifting and soaring through the sky took on an entirely new meaning.
“When did you learn?”
She bit her lip and ducked her head so that clouds of gleaming black hair fell around her face, hiding her expression from him. She waved her hand and instantly she was wearing soft drawstring pants that clung to her hips and shaped her legs. Her top was short, barely covering her midriff, exposing a small strip of intriguing skin.
“Gabrielle,” he prompted. “We made a pact to talk to each other. You do not like me in your mind. I have tried to be cognizant of your privacy, even when I did touch your mind.”
“Would you change these chairs to the picture I have in my mind?”
It was the first time she’d invited him to share her mind. It was simply the image of a chair, but she invited him. That, along with her clothes that showed more skin than he’d ever seen a woman expose, sent a rush of hot blood coursing through his veins.
“Is that outfit considered decent in the modern world? I am not complaining, but do women wear such clothes?”
She looked at him from under her long lashes. Her face was soft, her eyes gentle, turning his heart over. “Yes. Some women wear a lot less. I like these clothes when I’m just relaxing. This outfit would be considered casual.”
“These are not clothes of seduction?”
She shook her head slowly, and the expression creeping into her eyes and onto her face sent another wave of heat through him.
“Later I’ll show you clothes designed to seduce a man.”
His cock reacted in spite of his resolve to keep his body under control. He wanted to give her a chance to settle with him. Intense sex every time they got together was great, but it wasn’t getting him her heart—and he wanted her heart.
He sent her a slow smile. “I will look forward to that. Show me this chair you desire.”
He poured into her mind slowly. Easily. She had dropped her shields. He took care not to look around, not to pry. He wanted her to get used to giving him full access to all of her. Everything was his, and he wanted it. He wasn’t going to accept limitations in their relationship. The chair she wanted looked very comfortable. Deep. Wide. Overstuffed. He switched out both chairs immediately, aware she hadn’t answered his question about when she’d learned to shapeshift. She had avoided it. He didn’t make the mistake of looking in her memories.
“Is this right?” he asked, putting his hand on the back of the chair nearest the fire.
She flashed a pleased smile and sank down. “It’s perfect.”