black-brown eyes, framed with thick black lashes. Red-haired Shifters or human women usually had light-colored eyelashes, but not Rhianne. But then, she was a super-all-magical Tuil Erdannan. Maybe they could have eyelashes whatever color they wanted.
“If you’ve lived in the human world for so much time, you could have built a fortress,” Rhianne pointed out. “Or a house like this. Which is clearly not a fortress. Too many windows.” She glanced through the one on the landing, which looked out onto the thick trees behind the house. Sunlight glistened on her hair, despite its dirty tangles.
Ben shrugged. “I like to move around, meet new people. Plus, humans in general live less than a hundred years. If I stay in one place longer than, say, fifty, they get suspicious. I remember when they burned people who were odd recluses, blaming perfectly innocent, magic-less souls for all kinds of troubles.”
Rhianne’s eyes widened. “Seriously? And you want me to hide out here?”
“Don’t worry,” Ben said cheerfully. “They stopped burning people a few hundred years ago. Mostly.”
Rhianne shook her head. “Not reassuring.”
“Anyway.” Ben continued resolutely along the upstairs hall. “Bathroom.” He opened a door to a large room with a full tub and a shower stall. “Lots of towels. Hot water. I’ll show you how to work the taps.”
Rhianne watched in cautious curiosity as Ben demonstrated hot and cold water in the tub and then the shower. He showed her the sink for good measure.
He tried to stop himself picturing her peeling off her clothes and stepping delicately into the tub, steam rising around her lithe body, but it was tough.
Ben hurriedly opened the cabinet beside the sink. “Hairbrushes and things in here. Towels, like I said. Lots of soap. Jasmine knows how to stock the place for guests.”
“Jasmine.” Rhianne smiled, and once again Ben’s imagination went places it shouldn’t. “Pretty name.”
“Yeah, she’s great. Her mate, Mason, is really into her.”
Rhianne stood very close to Ben. As he’d observed, she topped him by about an inch. Interesting, because Tuil Erdannan were mostly tall. But again, maybe, like Ben, they could choose how they appeared.
Their similar height let him gaze into her eyes. Behind the dirt on her face was a beauty Ben wanted to touch.
Nope, no touching. Not the daughter of Lady Aisling mac Aodha. He wanted his guts to remain on the inside where they belonged. Ben was a powerful being on his own, more so than he usually let on, but Lady Aisling ... pinky …
“I’ll find clothes and leave them outside the door,” Ben said rapidly. “I won’t be anywhere near when you open it.”
Rhianne’s next smile held amusement. “Okay.” Her nose wrinkled fetchingly. “I like that word.”
“It’s kind of universal. Nowadays, that is. Only been around for about the last sixty or so years.”
Now he truly was babbling. Ben gave Rhianne a tight grin then forced himself to move past her and out the door.
She watched him go—Ben felt her gaze on him. He pretty much ran the last few steps then shut the door firmly behind him, leaning against it to catch his breath.
The house whispered, and Ben heard faint laughter. He opened his eyes and pointed at the ceiling.
“That’s enough from you.”
Swallowing, he walked away from the door, telling himself to go hunt through Jasmine’s closet for clothes. He tried to ignore the sound of water gushing into the tub, tried not to imagine the garments falling from Rhianne’s limbs, and failed miserably.
Rhianne lay back in the hot water after she’d washed and rinsed her hair and body, and started to shiver. All the soap in the world—whichever one she was in—couldn’t wash off the stink of Walther’s cell or the touch of his lackey’s hands. They hadn’t found her bare flesh, fortunately, but the imprint of their palms on her made her sick.
Ben had burst into her cell in a flare of light like a god, but he hadn’t looked like the solidly muscular man with the black hair and eyes he did now. She wasn’t certain what she’d seen—a massive creature, a nightmare beast that had torn off the cell door like it was paper.
What was Ben? And why, by the Goddess, had her mother decided he should take her away to the human world?
Lady Aisling indulged herself with trips to this world, but she’d always emphasized that though she liked to visit, she wouldn’t want to live there. Too dirty, she’d say, fastidiously brushing off whatever human clothing she’d returned in. But I had the