* * *

As they walked to Lucas's cabin to collect the swords, Kylie tried to figure out how to tell him about what she was doing. Instinctively, she knew he would fight her on it. And today of all days, she didn't want to fight.

"So this window you mentioned, you got a plan to get it open?" she asked.

He nodded. "It was what you said about the elders being young at one time. I remembered not too long ago my grandmother asking about one of the elders on the Council. She said he and her twin sister had fancied each other when they were young, but that she'd already been promised to someone else. I hadn't even known my grandmother was a twin. When I asked about her sister, she said she'd died. But I got a feeling there was more to the story. I went to see her this morning."

"And?" Kylie asked.

"She confessed that her twin killed herself the day before she was supposed to marry the other guy."

"So you're going to go and talk to this elder?"

"It's not that easy. He wouldn't agree to see me. But he might agree to see my grandma and she could perhaps talk him into seeing me."

"Did your grandma agree to do it?" Kylie asked.

"No," he said, frustration sounding in his voice. "She's stubborn. I'm supposed to go meet her for tea in a couple of hours." He sighed. "Tea always softens her a little. I think I'll be able to convince her."

"I think you will, too."

They arrived by the lake, and Kylie still couldn't find a way to tell Lucas her plans. So she just let it slide for now. They warmed up for a good twenty minutes, practicing the same moves he'd taught her.

Kylie didn't need to watch him to keep up. But she watched him all the same. She loved how his body moved, with strength, with control, and the way his muscles rippled under his jeans and cotton T-shirt.

Cotton had never looked so good.

He stopped the warm-up exercises and faced her. "You ready?"

She nodded. They held up their swords against each other. He pulled back and moved in, his blade swiping in the air a good six inches from her. She followed his lead, and after five minutes, she felt like they were really fighting for the first time.

The sense of danger didn't hold her back, it actually enthralled her. Who knew deep down she was such a thrill seeker?

She felt the sweat pour from her brow. And in the quick glances she caught of him, she saw the sheen on his skin and the damp shirt clinging to his chest. Wet cotton looked even better than dry.

"You're amazing when you fight," he said, sounding winded.

She looked up and lost her focus, never realizing how deadly that little mistake could be until she felt her blade make contact.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Kylie's breath trapped in her lungs. She dropped the sword. Lucas's sword slipped from his hand and landed beside hers. He stepped back. His shirt hung open, ripped by her blade.

"Oh my God! Are you-"

"It's okay. Just a scratch." He pressed his palm on his upper abs.

"Let me see." She moved to him.

"I'm fine." He took another step back. "It's my fault. I made you lose your concentration."

"Let me see!" she demanded again.

"It's really a scratch," he said.

She took the last few steps separating them and reached for his shirt. Her heart clutched, fearing what she'd see. Tears filled her eyes and air slipped from her lungs when she saw the red mark running over his belly button.

"A scratch, see?" His voice came out deep.

He was right. It wasn't much more than a scratch, but it still looked painful. She pressed two fingers to his bare flat stomach. Inhaling, she concentrated on healing. Her hands grew warm, and slowly she moved her touch across the wound.

She heard him groan, or was it a growl? She met his eyes. "Am I hurting you?" Then she recognized the heat in his eyes.

"No," he said, the hypnotic hum vibrating from him signaling that his body sought a potential mate.

Feeling brave, she brushed her hand up and over his abdomen. The soft, warm ripples of muscle and skin felt wonderful against her palm. She wanted more. More of him. More touching. She wanted to be touched.

As if reading her mind, his hands were on her waist, pulling her against him. His lips found hers and the kiss was smoldering. Deep and demanding from the moment his mouth met hers. She wasn't sure how they ended up on the ground, but suddenly they were there. The soft grass tickled her neck, but she mostly felt Lucas. Felt his hand brushing under her shirt. His sweet, soft touch on her breasts. Felt his weight half on her, his leg positioned between hers.

Everywhere a part of him touched her, she burned and ached for more. His hum filled her ears like music and she was lost. Lost in the moment, in the desire. Lost with yearning.

She wasn't afraid. She wanted this, wanted Lucas. She slipped her hand inside the back of his shirt.

She heard him make another sound, a mixture of both pain and marvel. And then his weight and all the wonder were gone. Opening her eyes, she saw Lucas standing over her, his eyes ablaze and looking almost wild. His hands were locked behind his neck and he breathed in and out as if he needed more oxygen.

"We can't ... I'm not prepared ... I don't have..."Doing her own share of trying to breathe, it took her a second to understand what he was attempting to say. He didn't have condoms. Even if he did, this shouldn't happen as an accident.

"We need ... Not like this," he said.