She was walking away from him. Again. It was like that first moment Rik had laid eyes on her in his office. Fuck, had it only been less than a week? He’d only been able to claim her last night, and the bonding was still incomplete until she finished the ceremony—a choice he wanted her to make. No tricks, no coercion, but because she loved him as much as he loved her. And he did love her.
Yes, it was quick. Yes, it was too soon. But they had an eternity to get to know each other, and he wanted every damned second of it.
“Oh!” Sam exclaimed suddenly, drawing his attention up from where it had been fixed on that heart-shaped ass of hers. Flashing him a knowing look as she spun around and saw his expression, she ran back to him and leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck.
The mystical chains binding him prevented him from catching her, from moving his arms, but Rik leaned down into her as much as he could when she lifted her head up to seal her lips to his in a passionate, fiery kiss.
Cor-fucking-blimey, was all Rik could think as her kiss tore through him. His cock, always at half-mast from her presence alone, surged to full tumescence as it pressed against her warm body. He poured himself into that all-too-brief kiss, letting the taste of her sear away the bitter aftertaste of Evie’s lips until all that remained was the shining purity of Sam’s passion.
Letting her arms slide from his neck, Sam slid back down his body, drawing a muffled groan from his throat as he stared down into her passion-glazed eyes. Licking her lips, she grinned up at him then patted his chest, over his heart, as she said, “For luck!”
With a saucy wink, she took off her OSU ball cap and perched it on his head at a jaunty angle before she turned and sauntered away, a bounce to her step as she stripped off her heavy flannel shirt. Clad only in a tight tank top, with her jeans and hiking boots, that ponytail of wavy hair swaying along her spine, Rik might have drooled a bit. Just a little.
“Go get her, Sammy girl!” came a cheer from the small group of redheads Sam had been conversing with earlier, and now that Bertie and his huge wings weren’t blocking the view, Rik got his first glimpse of what was obviously her family. An older man, his military buzz cut doing little to hide the gray at his temples, pinned Rik with a steely, steady gaze that had Rik flinching in guilt. Those eyes said he knew Rik had debauched his daughter, and a reckoning was in the works.
Three other sets of eyes, all in varying shades of blue and gray, were fastened on Sam as her rowdy brothers loudly cheered for their baby sister. Rik also noted that Travis’s gaze was fixed on Sam, his face twisted in an expression of grief and acceptance that had Rik sighing.
I knew it. Well, that ship has sailed, mon petit chiot, Rik thought to himself smugly. She’s mine, all mine, and I don’t share.
Despite knowing for a fact that Travis and Sam had had a relationship, Rik was surprisingly unbothered by the thought of the two working together. He was more than secure enough in himself, and in his cara, that he could be gracious in victory. At least this time.
“It has been agreed,” Killian’s voice rang out clearly through the amphitheater, drawing all eyes to him, the duelists and their seconds, in the center of the stage.
Rik noted the crowd had grown exponentially in the last few minutes, with what was probably every supernatural present today at the Village to bear witness to the proceedings. Killian’s glamour had created the barrier around the stage, but it had spread as well, casting the Village in a hazy fog. The Unaware would simply ignore everything going on, mentally filling in the blanks with logical explanations to anything that may occur.
“Both duelists have agreed to the challenge terms. It is to be a physical confrontation, no weapons and no magic, a fight to either one is rendered unconscious or acknowledges submission,” Killian continued, his dark, rich voice no more than conversationally loud, yet reaching the ears of all present in the amphitheater.
“The prize is the hand of the Fair Lord, Rikard Sebastian Leon, with the loser forfeiting any claim upon his person henceforth, whilst the winner shall be able to claim him in matrimony, if they so desire.” Okay, there was a definite thread of amusement in the Lord of the Gray’s otherwise neutral tone. Or maybe it was the roar of the crowd, cheering and whooping it up like this was part of some play and not Rik’s very future at stake.
Hunh, so this is how those damsels in fairy tales must feel, Rik thought ruefully to himself. It fucking sucks stinking donkey dicks.
“Sam!” Rik hollered out, drawing her attention. It drew everyone’s attention, but Sam’s eyes were the only ones that mattered.
Giving her his best smile, Rik called out, “Once you kick her ass and we get married, remind me that if we have any little girls, they’re going to ninja school! This damsel in distress schtick sucks! And not in the happy fun way, either!”
The smile on her face, the cocky salute she gave him, was worth all of it. The embarrassment of being a piece of meat up for contention. The worry about Sam’s safety. The terror of losing her now that he had her. That beautiful smile would stay with him throughout the rest of his days.
Evie, of course, had to ruin it all with, “Don’t you mean our daughters, Rikard? Trust me, I’ll make sure they’re well trained in combat. Too bad your little Mortal can’t say the same.”
“Seriously?” Sam asked, appearing truly bewildered as she looked between Rik and Evie. “You stuck your dick in that? And it didn’t fall off? Don’t get me wrong, she’s like supermodel beautiful, all Amazonian princess and all…” She snapped her fingers, “It was the accent, wasn’t it? Chicks with British accents are hot. I’ll give you that one, but come on…even my manslut brothers wouldn’t touch that skank!”
And those lying liars, to a one, backed her up.
“Nope! Never,” Brian swore, his wide eyes pointedly not straying toward where Evie was standing in her sports bra and yoga pants, every inch of her athletic body in perfect display as she stood there with one hand on her hips.
Dillon was rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the ground and just shook his head, refusing to meet the eyes of either Evie or Sam.
With such a look of pure innocence on his face, Patrick said solemnly, “Not even if she was the last woman on Earth.”
See? Dirty, rotten liars, all three of them!
“As if I would touch any of them,” Evie sneered as she secured her hair in a knot, conveniently thrusting out her firm, high breasts to the appreciation of nearly every straight male in the audience.
Sam muttered something under her breath as she turned away to stalk to her corner. Whatever it was must have involved him somehow, because it drew a quick, startled glance from Killian and an explosive burst of laughter from Bertie that damn near caused the Keep overhead to shudder.
“Hey!” Mona hollered after the retreating redhead. “I slept with him!”
Throwing up her hands, Sam spun back around and pointed a damning finger at Mona as she gave Evie a wide-eyed look of exasperation as she shouted, “See? SEE? It’s not like Rik was choosy before he met me. I mean, is there a woman he hasn’t slept with that isn’t related to him?”
Wincing, realizing what she had shouted a few seconds too late, Sam cast Rik an apologetic look and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’
Rik ducked his head, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to keep from laughing. It was just too damned ridiculous for words. If it had been anyone else but him, he’d be laughing as hard as his so-called friends were. Fuck you, Clay…your day is coming, and I will so be there with a video camera to capture every moment of it!
Shit. Video cameras.
Quickly raising his head, Rik cursed virulently at the sheer number of cell phones recording the proceedings. He would have slumped to the ground in defeat if not for the cursed chains holding him still.
As the challengers and their seconds once more moved to their respective corners, Killian strolled casually back to stand beside Rik.
“Your anam cara is certainly…an interesting woman,” he remarked in a low, thoughtful tone.
“Remind me again why the fuck you’re here?” Rik snarled, feeling a little less than pleased with the presence of the man who was his new Lord.
Killian actually sighed as he replied, “I suppose this is neither the time nor place to ask for your official bond of fealty.” With a shrug, he straightened his cufflinks and turned around to face the stage and audience.
Raising his hands, Killian called out, “Duelists, are you prepared?”
“Yes, My Lord,” Evie said formally, giving him a deep bow.
“Yep,” Sam called out as she bounced from foot-to-foot, shadow-boxing and looking both absolutely adorable and utterly unprepared to face a Sidhe in battle. She paused, glancing over at Killian, “Um, am I supposed to call you Lord or whatever, too?”
With a small, gracious smile, Killian shook his head, “No, dear Samantha, I am not your Lord nor am I your Liege.” There was a definite ‘yet’ amended to that.
“Very well!” Killian’s hands swept downward. “Begin!”