Spellbinder Page 72


As if to emphasize his point, the cat batted lazily at the performance hat.

She hesitated, torn. The inn sounded wonderful, but the thought of trying to figure out where it was in her exhausted state sounded daunting. Is it easy to find?

Not only is it easy to find, but the cat will keep you company on your walk, Robin assured her. As long as you are able to put one foot in front of the other, we will get there easily.

Then we’d better get going, because I don’t know how much longer I can stay upright. Laying out her two dresses and her outfit from Earth, she set the performance hat in the middle and rolled the clothes around it. Tucking the bundle under one arm, she blew out the candle and walked out. I don’t even know how to get out of here.

I will tell you. The cat trotted at her heels, tail up.

She followed the puck’s telepathic directions, plowing forward through sheer determination. She shouldn’t feel so disappointed Morgan wasn’t waiting in her room. It was unrealistic to have hoped for him anyway. The castle hadn’t settled for the night, the witchlights glowed everywhere, and many people still wandered the halls.

Several smiled at her and called out congratulations, and one or two made as if to approach her, but she nodded to them with a set smile and kept moving.

Mindful of Kallah’s instruction, she left word with the guard that she would be staying at the inn. The exhilaration of stepping out of the castle and into the open air lent fuel to her steps. The route to the inn was filled with cobblestone streets and spacious buildings with arched doorways. In the distance, light spilled out of a street that intersected theirs.

She asked, What is that light from?

The night market is still open, Robin told her. It is not midnight, yet. The inn is at the end of the street. Ask for their best room. It has a balcony with a view of the sea. I leave you here.

As much as she still resented and hated what he had done to her, his presence had oddly become something of a comfort. Frowning, she looked around for the cat, but he was already gone.

She had meant to ask him to let Morgan know where she had gone. Feeling alone, cranky, and unreasonably abandoned, she made her way down the street to the large inn. Pushing her way inside, she discovered the taproom was busy and full of heat and noise. The smells of food, beer, and woodsmoke washed over her.

Most of the patrons were Light Fae, but there were a few monstrous creatures she couldn’t identify, along with slender, ethereal creatures with pointed chins, and possibly some humans, although she wasn’t sure about that. Several turned to look at her as she paused, then her gaze went unfocused and the crowd disappeared in a blur.

One Light Fae woman stood out. As she hurried toward Sid, she wiped her hands on a cloth. Beaming, she said, “Welcome, musician! I’m Leisha, one of the owners. We’re honored to have you here. What can I do for you?”

“I would like your best room,” Sid said. “The one with the sea view and the balcony. Is it available?”

“It is, indeed, and it is yours now.”

The innkeeper led the way upstairs. The room was spacious and well-appointed, with a bathing alcove behind a carved screen. As Sid set her bundle down on the large bed, Leisha lit the stacked logs in the fireplace and went to balcony doors to throw them open wide. Picking through the unfamiliar coins in her hat, Sid paid her for a week and ordered a breakfast tray for the morning.

By the time the innkeeper took her leave, the heat from the fireplace had begun to spread throughout the room, mingling with the freshness of the sea air. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, Sid came to a dead stop. She didn’t think she could say one more word to anyone, not even to save her life.

Staggering to the bed, she pulled off her clothes and crawled underneath the covers, and she fell deeply asleep the moment her head hit one of the soft, clean-scented pillows.


“Sidonie.”

Someone cupped her bare shoulder and stroked the short hair back from her forehead.

She was tired, so tired, but she fought to surface out of her deep sleep because she knew that whisper.

She knew those hands. She would know them anywhere.

Dragging heavy eyelids open, she tried to focus on the large, powerful figure bending over her. The fire still crackled in the fireplace, and it was dark outside. She couldn’t have been asleep that long.

Looking up into Morgan’s shadowed face, she raised her arms. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gathered her up, and she buried her face in his neck. Huskily, she whispered against his skin, “How did you get in here?”

“The inn backs against a series of buildings built very close together. As soon as Robin told me where you were, I knew how to get here. I came over the rooftops.” He cupped the back of her head, holding her tightly.

Needing to feel his skin against hers, she plucked at his shirt. “I can’t keep my eyes open. Take off your clothes and come to bed.”

Easing back, he gave her a swift kiss and stood to strip. Lying back against the pillows, she watched him through slitted eyes. She might not be able to open her eyes fully, but she also couldn’t stop watching him.

He was muscular all over, tanned, and beautifully formed, and his strong, corded legs were sprinkled with chestnut hair. He took everything off except the bandage that wrapped around his lower ribs. His large penis stood half-erect over tight, round testicles, but he did not appear to notice. His expression was sober, contemplative.

One arm flexing, he pulled back the covers, and when he slid in beside her, the sensation of his nude body coming against hers was so much what she had been yearning for, she lost her breath on a shaken sigh.

Lying back against the pillows, he pulled her to him, and she went readily, curling around his body like a limpet, drawing one leg over his while he guided her head to his shoulder. His body relaxed, and breathing deeply, he nestled his face in her hair.

She pushed more tightly against him, greedily drinking in every detail—the tickle of crisp chest hair against her cheek, the feeling of warmth as his body heated the bed, the stroke of his fingers as he cupped her biceps, the length of his erection resting against her thigh.

“I had to come,” he murmured. “I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to come to your room in the castle.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t. It wouldn’t have been safe.” She pressed kisses to his pectoral muscles and nuzzled him.

“Waiting to find out how your meeting with Isabeau went was agonizing.” His words stirred the hair at her temple. “But since you were able to come into town, apparently, it went well.”

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