TWENTY-NINE

Ivy woke feeling better than she deserved to under the circumstances. She was a bit light-headed, a little achy, and a lot thirsty. Looking down, she saw the expertly applied bandage around her forearm and gave it an experimental poke. The flesh underneath protested a little but it didn’t scream at her. Lark must have somehow managed to treat the claw marks quickly. She couldn’t believe she had allowed one of those chades to get that close to her. But then, it hadn’t been a normal fight, had it?

She had watched as Lark had started glowing with a faint, pale light and she had been optimistic that his harebrained plan may actually succeed. That optimism had lasted about ten seconds because Lark had then clearly taken a little mental detour. Thinking to give him a swift kick to snap him out of it, she had found herself swiftly surrounded by the pack of chades. Three had come at her immediately and she’d had to fight harder than in recent memory. One side-step an inch too short had resulted in a burning pain across her arm and her sickle had dropped from her nerve-less fingers. At that point, Lark had slashed at the chade with his own blade and it had poofed into nothingness. After that, she didn’t really remember much because the burning had turned into a scorching and she had passed out.

A quick glance around the room revealed a hunched over Lark in an uncomfortable-looking, mustard-yellow upholstered chair next to the bed. Clearly, the man had spent the night curled up in it with his too-long limbs hanging over the sides and his neck awkwardly tucked against the back. But the dark circles under his eyes, the messy hair, and the rumpled clothes couldn’t detract from his masculine beauty. The man was breathtakingly gorgeous, even after days without sleeping or showering.

The past few days were somewhat of a blur and when she forced herself to focus, she came up with only a handful of disjointed images, sounds, and smells. Her fever must have been fierce for her to have such poor memory but perhaps it was a blessing of sorts. She didn’t really need any more images of herself hallucinating, vomiting, and sweating against the sheets.

But what she did know, was that she had been so weak she’d had to rely on Lark for everything. For someone who prided herself on strength and independence, it was her worst nightmare. But somehow, because it was Lark, it was okay. And he had been wonderful throughout it all; wiping her brow, fetching her water, carrying her into the bathroom, holding her at night. Chade poisoning really was a pain in the arse.

She pushed herself up and Lark snapped awake, bolting upright and reaching for his weapon automatically. For some reason, the action turned her on immensely. He truly was a knight, even in his sleep. Seeing no threat, he relaxed and scrubbed rough hands over his face. He then looked at her and smiled, his green eyes lighting with warmth and happiness to find her awake.

“Hey there, beautiful. How’re you feeling? You look wonderful,” he said.

It should have been ridiculous. She knew she must look like a harpy rolled in warmed-up shit but she knew he was sincere. She knew he truly thought she looked beautiful. Because to him – she would always be beautiful. He had spent the last few days of her illness telling her so, as well as countless other romantic and flirty things. And somewhere along the way, the strangest thing had happened.

Ivy had started to believe him.

With that thought in mind and a fresh lease on life, she rose from the bed clad only in one of Lark’s shirts. Walking slowly toward him, she put an extra sway in her steps, stopping only when she was a hairbreadth from making contact with him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking confused.

She arched her eyebrows, “Do you really have to ask? I would have thought it was obvious.”

“Um, are you hallucinating again? Do you have a fever?” he placed a palm against her forehead and even that turned her on. Maybe chade toxin had an aphrodisiac effect? She’d never noticed before but it could be a decent side benefit.

“I’m not hallucinating. I just want you,” she informed him.

His mouth opened and closed for a moment before he sputtered, “Well, you can’t have me.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, wondering idly if she looked like an idiot or if she was achieving sexy. She knew which one she felt – and it wasn’t sexy. She aimed for a seductive purr, “Why not?”

He stood up, walking backwards, “Because you spent the last three days on death’s door.”

“Exactly. It was horrible and scary – blah, blah, blah. Let’s have some life-reaffirming sex.” But the man only continued to look at her with wide eyes as he shook his head, “Come on, you’ve been throwing yourself at me for weeks. Now you’re suddenly frigid?”

He stiffened in insult, “I have not been throwing myself at you. And I am most certainly not frigid! I have been trying to start a relationship with you; one based on intellect and emotion and affection,” he informed her, a little primly.

“And what about sex? Because I could have sworn that day against the car that you were interested in sex too,” she pointed out.

“Of course I’m interested in sex!” he barked at her.

“With me?”

He growled, “Of course with you!”

Ivy fought to keep her face blank when she really wanted to grin like the Cheshire Cat. It was so rare to see him looking grumpy and insulted and bad-tempered. Was it evil of her to want to find out how much he could take until his control snapped? Seeing the way he was grinding his teeth, she figured it wouldn’t take that long, “What’s the problem, then?”

He stiffened his shoulders and planted his feet and she knew he was going to be stubborn, “You’ve been sick, Ivy. I’m not about to take advantage of a sick woman.”

She took a step towards him, “Oh, please. Take advantage of me.” Another step, “Come on … I promise to still respect you in the morning,” she cajoled.

He shook his head, “That’s not funny.”

“No?” she pouted, stepping forward again.

“No,” he confirmed.

“Then why are you smiling?” One final step and she was now close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

“This is just my default expression,” he told her.

He probably meant that as a joke. But this time, the joke was on him because what he said was true. Reaching up with her pointer finger, she traced the smile right off his lips, “You know, it really is your default look. It should be weird or annoying or something like that. But it’s not. It’s just … nice. I like – no, I love when you smile at me.”

His mulish expression softened and his smile widened, “And I love hearing that. But,” he pushed her away from him, “it doesn’t change the fact you were poisoned a few days ago. Because of me, I might add. I can’t believe I allowed my concentration to lapse like that. Ivy, I am so sorry. So, so sorry.”

She sighed in annoyance now. He had been apologising for days. It was one of the things she remembered with clarity. But as far as she was concerned, he had nothing to apologise for. He had been channelling the power of a goddess! What did the man expect? She opened her mouth to tell him so – for the umpteenth time – only to find him beating a hasty exit to the bathroom. She narrowed her eyes; as if that will stop me.

She made her way into the bathroom, feeling lucky to be alive and lucky to have such a wonderful man believing she was beautiful. She knew Lark was big on the whole talking shtick but she was more of a believer that actions spoke louder than words. So, she stripped the worn shirt smelling of Lark from her body, letting it fall carelessly to the ground. Reaching for the flimsy shower curtain, she pulled it back and had the pleasure of ogling Lark from the rear without anything in her way.

Despite the horrifying array of scars crisscrossing his back and the top of his thighs he was an absolute thing of beauty. He was lean and rangy but his muscles were clearly evidenced in the way his creamy skin stretched so tautly. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim, and his butt – oh man, his butt! Two globes of round, muscled perfection. She reached out with both hands and grabbed both cheeks, giving them a healthy squeeze before Lark jumped and spun, taking his arse with him.

“What the? Ivy! I – you – you’re naked,” he goggled.

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed,” she barely repressed a giggle when Lark swallowed noisily and his eyes began frantically searching for something to come to his rescue. This is so much fun! she thought. No wonder the women back at the house tormented their men on a daily basis. This kind of power was heady and could get addictive mighty fast.

Scanning his front just as thoroughly as she did his back, her eyes were drawn to his impressive pecs, subtly chiselled abs, and … oh, boy, his very fine package. Feeling bold and brave and in need of immediate gratification, she knelt down. Keeping her gaze steady on his, she leaned forward and licked the tip of his impressive erection. His whole body jerked like it had been electrocuted but the knight must have nerves of steel for he kept his hands tightly fisted at his sides.

Feeling a moment of insecurity, thinking perhaps she had read him completely wrong and he didn’t want her at all, she eyed the lines of strain on his handsome face. His jaw was clenched, his eyebrows pulled down low in a fierce frown, and his eyes were heavy-lidded. But there was a distinct sparkle in them. Defiance? she wondered, but as she allowed her tongue to peek out once more, tasting his heady flavour, she finally recognised the flare of darkness in them – challenge. Just like that, she felt her insecurities melt away. He definitely wanted her. But it appeared as if the hunter now wanted to become the hunted. The look in his eyes said it all; bring it!

Ivy felt her smile grow as she looked up at him from her position on her knees. She licked her lips and began dragging her hands up over her own body – her stomach, her breasts, her neck – before finally reaching the tie which constrained her hair. Tugging the elastic loose, she shook out her hair until she felt it brush the curve of her arse and began to plaster itself to her skin from the warm water pounding down on them.

“Challenge accepted,” she informed her knight.