eyes were on the cathedral-like ceiling.
On the walls were narrow ledges running around the room like stepping-stones—or bookcases—from the floor to that massive ceiling. Already, Blue had found his way to the top where he could oversee the space and still peer into the first chamber through the open archway.
Isai took a few minutes to pull the designs from Julija’s head he’d noticed when he was merged with her. Each time he put a bed or a chair in a room for her, there would be the briefest flash of a memory. That memory seemed to soothe her and yet she never brought it up. He copied the chairs and rug, placing the furniture exactly as he noticed in her memories. The room always appeared to be a sitting room, one that she thought of often.
“You do know you are supposed to have your clothes off. The earth heals and rejuvenates you through your skin.” He positioned a third chair, so he could watch her antics with the cats. He sprawled out, legs in front of him, ankles crossed, his arms folded as he watched his woman making her ridiculous shapes in the soil. She made him want to smile every time he looked at her.
“Seriously, Isai? Are you just a little crazy right now? If I was completely naked, I would get dirt in places ladies prefer not to have dirt.”
Her snippy tone sent fingers of desire dancing up his thighs. She had lifted her head just inches, her dark eyes meeting his. There was laughter in her dark chocolate gaze—an invitation for him to join in her silly fun. He would have, but just watching her gave him a feeling he’d never had. It was sharp and terrible and wonderful all at the same time. The intensity of his joy—and he identified the emotion as that, even though he’d never known it—was nearly overwhelming. He could sit there forever and just watch her play.
“If you were naked, as you should be, the soil would take away your exhaustion.”
“You just want me naked rolling around in the dirt. You’re probably one of those weird men who would enjoy mud wrestling.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Mud wrestling?”
He couldn’t help joining in the fun his own way. He lifted one finger and gently directed air toward her. Just the lightest of touches, unfelt by her. She had exchanged tees for a pale mint green blouse with tiny pearl buttons. It was impractical for where they were, but he hadn’t said a word to her because she looked beautiful in it, and she could control the temperature of her body.
She raised up on her elbows. The action emphasized her breasts beneath the mint green fabric. “You don’t know what mud wrestling is?” She gave a little pretend shudder. “It is something I would never do.”
“And yet you make snow angels in the soil.”
The little puffs of wind had done their job. Her blouse slid open, exposing soft skin. She wore a lacy green bra, a little darker than the mint. His body stirred.
“It’s way different.”
There was that snippy tone that kept those fingers dancing over his body, stroking his cock and making him think all kinds of impure thoughts that had nothing whatsoever to do with mud wrestling.
He lifted another finger as Phaedra distracted her, rolling close and pawing at her hair. Julija laughed and rubbed her belly. Her jeans slid open. Julija caught the band with one hand. “What are you doing?” Suspicion edged her voice.
“I am merely watching my woman lose her mind a little bit.” He sounded as innocent as possible.
As she sat up, her blouse slid off her shoulders. When she let go of her jeans to catch at the two sides of her blouse, the denim began to slip off her hips. Even the soil beneath her cooperated with him, scooping out just enough room so the material could slide out from under her bottom. Her eyes widened, and she made a desperate grab for her jeans, trying not to laugh as her blouse once more began to slide from her body.
“You can’t get the blouse off my arms, silly. Stop being such a guy.”
Isai didn’t respond. He simply flicked his finger at the blouse as she tried to lift herself to pull the jeans back over her bottom. She paused, noticing his finger flicks, trying to determine what he was doing. Her blouse fell apart at each seam, the separate pieces of material floating off her, dancing