Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Bloody unpredictable magic.
I rake a hand through my hair. How the hell do I return this book to Bram? I would call him, but I don’t dare linger. Sydney will wake soon…and she’ll start asking questions.
As I turn to leave, the covers rustle. Over my shoulder, I glimpse Sydney sit up, halfheartedly holding the sheet over her tempting little nipples. Instantly, I’m hard for her again.
After last night, how can I still be craving her?
“Going somewhere so early?” she asks. “Without saying goodbye?”
Sydney is usually full of moxie. She can be tough as nails. But dawn light illuminates a tension in her soft brown eyes. She looks fragile. Vulnerable. She’s aching for reassurance that last night wasn’t a hit-and-run. She’s hoping that I care, that I find her worthy. That she’s somehow worked her way into my heart.
It’s too dangerous for me to assure her that she has.
“Of course you are,” she answers herself, drawing the sheet higher over her breasts. “You’ve had your night with me. Box checked. Curiosity fulfilled. Another notch in your bedpost. It’s not as if you made me any promises.” She hangs her head, looking very much like she’ll berate herself the moment I’ve gone. “Go.”
I can’t stand to see her hurting. “Syd—”
“Don’t. I’ll find someone else eventually and forget last night, and that will be that.”
Like hell you will!
Full of possessive fury, I take her face in my hands. I can’t bloody stay. I can’t risk claiming the lifelong mate magic intends for me. I’m a danger to her, and I fear she’ll be my undoing.
But seeing her dejected is agonizing.
If I leave her without a word, our relationship will be over. I’d rather give myself a lobotomy with a rusty knife before I crush her. To complicate matters, every bit of trust I’ve rekindled will disappear as quickly as the Doomsday Diary if I simply walk out.
Bugger all! What a ball’s up.
If I want to find Anka, escape this magical freak show, and avoid hurting Sydney, I must reassure her, get the necessary information, then devise an escape plan that won’t crush her heart—or leave a hole in mine.
“Sydney, I’m not some Lothario sneaking off the morning after. I need to shower and dress for work, and I’d like to call and check on my brother.”
Her face softens. She never wears her emotions on her sleeve, and it’s disarming. Can I read her because I know her better? Or…because I feel so bloody connected to her?
“I’m not stopping you. Go.”
Not when she’s upset.
I sink onto the bed beside her and take her hand. “It would be better if I didn’t smell like sex in the office. Our boss may not appreciate it.”
“It doesn't take long for Holly to catch on,” Sydney concedes with a halfhearted smile.
“Not only do we not want her angry, we have important work to do.” I take a deep breath and plunge in. “This magical war story may be quite dangerous. Let me protect you. Please. Don’t meet your source again without me. I’ll set her at ease and—”
“Let’s leave work at the office. Any time we spend together away from Out of this Realm should be about us. Besides, if this isn’t a one-off, shouldn’t we be focused on getting to know each other? Tell me more about you.”
I’m going to be magical soon, and I’m fairly certain that if I kissed you, I would issue you a Mating Call that would shock you to your pretty toes. How do you feel about being a wizard’s mate and living for a thousand years?
I clear my throat and try to think of something benign to say. “I plan to move back to Texas. I miss Mexican food.”
A reluctant smile spreads across her face. “We Brits don’t make it well?”
“I’ve seen dog food with more appeal.”
Sydney laughs. “That’s harsh.”
“The truth often is.”
Some of the uncertainty leaves her eyes, and I see a flash of the Sydney I know. “All right. But that’s not personal. You know all about my parents, but you’ve hardly spoken of your own.”
“As I said, they’re elderly and frail. They live outside of York.”
“Are they able to visit Lucan?”
“They don’t know about his condition.” That’s another thing that makes me feel like a shit. “I don’t dare tell them. I fear them knowing their elder son is…unwell would be too much at their age.”
She nods sympathetically. “What will you do if the worst happens?”
“Lucan is receiving care from experts. He’s strong, and I’m by his side. I can’t lose faith that he’ll pull through.”
“Thank you for sharing that. I’m sorry about your brother. Tell me about his condition.”
Some part of me wants to open up to Sydney, share my burden with her. The urge is nearly as compelling as my need to make love to her again.