Master of Desire (Merlin's Legacy #6) - Angela Knight Page 0,66

walked over to retrieve it and turned, holding it out. “Here.”

Conal stalked over, gorgeous muscle working in his powerful torso. He’d put on his pants, but he hadn’t zipped them yet. “Thank you,” he said with cool courtesy, only to stop in the middle of sliding it on. It hung in shreds.

Helena winced, remembering she’d torn it off him. “Sorry. I got… carried away. I’ll have Maeve conjure you another one.”

“Not necessary,” he said stiffly. “She can just open a gate back to my apartment.”

Damn it, I’m not going to cry.

Conal collected his shoes and socks and put them on, his movements quick, angry.

“What the hell are you so mad about?” she demanded before she could think better of it. “It’s not my fault the Burning Moon is over. I used up all the pheromones trying to snap you out of death god mode.”

His fingers froze in the act of tying his shoes, and his head dropped. His hair fell in a tangled curtain around his face. Softly he said, “You’re right, I’m being a prick. You saved my life and sanity. I have no business acting like an asshole.”

She sighed. “You’re the last man I’d ever call an asshole, Conal. Look, the Burning Moon…”

He looked up at her. To her shock, she saw his eyes were bright, as if he’d teared up. “I realize that you’ve been under the influence of hormones this past week. Maybe you don’t feel the attraction now.” Conal rose from the bed, moved closer, and started to reach for her. Pulled back. “But I want to see you again. I hope you’ll at least let me take you out and give you that tour of New York. The whole thing, not just Beltane.”

Helena stared at him, feeling her jaw drop. “I didn’t mean I only wanted you because of the Burning Moon. I just assumed you wouldn’t want…” To her shame, she felt a tear roll down her face. “I’m not exactly like the women you usually date.”

Conal stared at her a moment, then laughed a trifle unsteadily. “Helena, the women I usually date would’ve run screaming when I turned into a death god. The women I usually date wouldn’t have taken on ten werewolves to save me from being tortured to death.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to… Gratitude is not a good basis for a relationship.”

“Gratitude, my ass!” He stepped closer, and his hands came up to cradle her face. “Let me ask you this. Do you want me?”

Helena looked up at him, realizing she was quivering from the emotional storm she felt. His face was hard and intent, a single tear track glistening on his high cheekbone, though he was no longer crying. “God, yes.”

His gaze searched her face. “Do you believe I just pretended to want you for protection against Siobhan?”

“Oh, hell, no. You’re way too honorable.”

His mouth took on a bitter twist. “I don’t see how you can say that, given what I did to Siobhan.”

“Siobhan is a narcissistic, sadistic sociopath,” Helena told him tartly, “and if you hadn’t played the game with her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation because she would’ve killed you and those babies within a week.”

The tight line of Conal’s shoulders relaxed, and she realized Siobhan’s accusations had hurt him. Helena laid a hand against his cheekbone and brushed her thumb over his velvet lips. “The kind of man Siobhan accused you of being would’ve killed her on the spot. Then he’d have killed me and Essus… and gone right on killing. It would have taken Maeve, the Magekind, Cachamwri and everybody else they could recruit to take him out.” Thinking about it, she shook her head. “No, come to think of it, a man like that would already be dead, because Liam have burned him right out of his own brain and taken over completely. Liam has an extremely low threshold when it comes to weasels.”

He blinked once. “Well, yeah. But…”

“Conal, he respects you. He said so -- you heard him. Believe me, getting any praise out of Liam is harder than winning the Congressional Medal of Honor.”

His gaze sharpened, and his head dipped to kiss her, his mouth suddenly ravenous, tasting of relief as much as need. She kissed him back, opening her mouth as their tongues swirled and danced, arms winding around his neck.

At last Conal drew back, breathing hard, his gaze fierce now, determined. “I want to be with you. But I want more than that.”

Her breathing rough,