before Mordecai stepped out with a wet washcloth. He wiped her down – her breasts, stomach, and between her legs. The last made her blush furiously and had him laughing. “You are too cute,” he said, bopping her on the nose. He then threw the towel on the floor and crawled back into bed with her.
“I’m not cute,” she retorted. “I’m a goddess.”
“You’ll get no complaints from me about that,” Mordecai said, drawing her against his chest.
Dana laughed. “I feel good,” she then admitted.
“I would certainly hope so,” Mordecai said, running his hands over her back and settling them on her butt.
“I mean it. No wonder all the loved-up couples walk around on cloud nine all the time. Love feels good,” Dana admitted, snuggling further into Mordecai’s strong embrace. Too bad he chose that moment to move.
“Hold up,” he pushed away a little, levering himself up on an elbow so he could look down at her. “Did you say love?”
Dana stilled, everything in her locking up when she realised what she had just said. Yes, she loved Mordecai. She had loved him for years. And it wasn’t just because they had created a child together or because he was her first and only sexual experience. It was because of everything she had seen and everything she had felt from him over the years. But she had an unfair advantage. She had those years of watching and feeling. She had minutes and hours of him laughing and smiling and joking. Of him crying and erupting with violence. Of him healing and making friends and making enemies. She may not have had a lot of time to physically talk with Mordecai until recently, but she knew him. She knew what kind of man he was – knew his heart and his soul. So, yes, she loved him. Very much. Looking into the emerald depths of his eyes, she refused to withhold anything from him ever again. So she took a deep breath and told him everything she had just thought.
She ended her little speech with; “I don’t expect you to feel the same way, Mordecai. I know I have an unfair advantage. There’s no pressure.”
Mordecai was sitting up with his back to the headboard and staring straight ahead. When he continued to do so for the next few minutes, Dana deflated, knowing she had messed up her chance of a relationship with Mordecai before it had ever really begun. Peeling back the covers, she went to leave when she felt his hand on her arm.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d give you some space,” she said, not turning around. She didn’t want to see dismissal in his eyes.
Mordecai grunted and tugged on her arm, pulling her back onto the bed. He quickly rolled on top of her and pinned her arms above her head. “Did I say I wanted space?” Dana shook her head. “That’s right. I didn’t. Dana …” he released his hold on her wrists and cupped her face instead. “I may not love you yet. But I want the chance to. I want to love you, Dana. Give me time. Let me make up that advantage you have.”
Dana chewed furiously on her lip, anything to divert attention from her brain to her eyes – which were starting to leak. “You want to love me?”
Mordecai smiled, keeping his eyes on hers as he took small sips of her lips. “Very much.”
Tears of happiness and tears of gratitude began to run down her cheeks. Mordecai bent down and kissed them away and Dana wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on extra tight. “Okay,” she mumbled against the bare skin of his shoulder.
Mordecai lifted his head. “Okay?”
“You have yourself a deal,” she grinned, laughing when Mordecai whooped loudly.
Now all she had to do was figure out how to tell Tempus and Tanda she was leaving the Triumvirate. And hoped like hell her unexpected and mysterious protégé was up to the job.
Chapter Thirteen
Mordecai came to a dead stop just outside his bedroom door. There were four morons grinning like adolescent schoolboys standing directly in front of him. “Get out of my way,” he pushed past them, making his way to the only appliance in the still unfitted kitchen: the coffee machine. “You look like a bunch of idiots,” he told them, listening to the magical sounds of coffee beans grinding.
“And you look like you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet,” Bastien pointed out.
Mordecai ran his hands through his still wet hair