Page 15

FENELLA

T he time spent with the children had managed to relax Fenella after the mini earthquake she'd experienced while holding that figurine.

The whole psychometry thing was unnerving.

She didn't like taking a ride on some stranger's memories, seeing and feeling things that she shouldn't. It wasn't about invasion of privacy since the guy was long gone by now, it was just creepy.

"So, your place or mine?" Din asked as they crossed the bridge that separated Kalugal's section from the main village.

The question was innocent enough, but the undertone in his voice made heat pool low in her belly. She glanced up at him, taking in the way the dark strands of his hair shifted in the light ocean breeze, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

Five days.

Had it really only been five days since he'd arrived in the village? It felt like yesterday and like a lifetime ago at the same time.

"Shira is not home."

That was enough said, and Din got her meaning right away.

The glow from his eyes became visible in the fading light. "I like the way you think." His hand found the small of her back, the touch possessive in a way that sent pleasant shivers down her spine. "A late afternoon delight before your shift in the bar is a brilliant idea."

She liked the way he phrased it. There were clear advantages to having a boyfriend who had grown up in an era when words still mattered and a gentleman didn't use crude language when in the presence of a lady. It was such a refreshing change from everyone else she'd ever been with.

Not that she was much of a lady. She could cuss with the worst of them. But she still enjoyed being treated as one, and it incentivized her to act more cultured herself.

"It is, right?" She bumped her hip against his.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "A brilliant idea from a brilliant lady. You always know what makes me happy."

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Was there a healthy male who would not be happy with such a suggestion?

Instead, she said, "You're easy to please, Professor. Especially in bed."

"Every moment with you feels like a gift, in bed and outside of it." His voice dropped to that low register that made her pulse quicken.

"Careful, Professor. Keep talking like that, and I might say those words you are waiting for sooner than later."

Din stopped walking.

They were in the middle of one of the village's main pathways, busier than usual with residents enjoying the Sunday afternoon, but he didn't seem to care about their audience.

"Then you'll be hearing much more of this from now on.

" He punctuated his words with a kiss that was anything but appropriate for public consumption.

His hands framing her face and holding her steady, he claimed her mouth with a thoroughness that made her weak in the knees.

There was a fleeting moment of embarrassment when her mind was still aware of the people around them, but she didn't push him away or tell him to stop nor scold him for making a scene.

Instead, she melted against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

"Oh, look!" someone said, the voice tinged with amusement. "They are filming a remake of Twilight ."

"Where are the sparkles?" another voice said.

Behind Din's back, Fenella lifted her middle finger at the jokers, which elicited twin bouts of laughter.

Din didn't even break the kiss to respond to the two.

When she finally pulled away to take a breath, the spectators were gone, and she was a little dazed. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly in love with you," he corrected, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

As they resumed walking, Fenella was hyperaware of every point of contact between them—Din's hand on her back, the warmth of his body so close to hers. "This is nice," she said.

"I agree." He cast her a satisfied smile.

"I meant this." She waved a hand over the pathway. "Sunday afternoon in the village, with people just living their lives. No one running from anything, no one looking over their shoulder. It feels almost surreal. Utopian."

Din's palm moved from her back to capture her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "The castle in Scotland and its surrounding grounds are even more serene than this."

She tilted her head. "Do you like it better there?"

"That's a definite no." He laughed. "The castle is drafty, the plumbing and electrical systems are iffy, and we get rooms, not even apartments."

Fenella frowned. "Then how do you prepare your meals?"

"We have a dining hall, and we eat together, which is easy and practical until you get tired of the same cyclical menu and want something different, but it's an hour and a half drive to the nearest restaurant."

"I wouldn't mind communal meals. Atzil cooks not just for Kalugal but for all his men, and they all eat together. I think it's nice. It creates a sense of community."

Din chuckled. "And now their boss also treats them to after-dinner whiskey and cigars in his smoking lounge. I bet no one wants to quit their employment."

"Atzil has only good things to say about Kalugal." She turned to look at Din. "What did you boys talk about during your manly bonding time in the lounge? Besides comparing the size of your cigars, that is."

Din chuckled, but then the amusement slid off his face. "Kian's worried. More than worried, actually. He thinks the Brotherhood is winning, that we don't have the resources to counter their influence effectively."

"Well, that's cheerful." Fenella tried to keep her tone light, but unease crept up her spine. If someone as powerful as Kian was worried, what chance did the rest of them have?

"He actually said we need a miracle," Din continued. "I've never heard him sound so defeated. He was always the rock everyone depended on. I mean, we have Sari in Scotland, and she is great, but she's not a military gal. She's not exposed to the things Kian is."

"So, what did you do? Pat him on the back and pour him more whiskey to console him?"

"Actually..." Din rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I made a few suggestions to counter the pessimism. An alternative, more optimistic approach."

That was interesting. "Do tell."

As they walked, Din explained his idea about countering the Brotherhood's influence not through cultural manipulation, but by fostering hope and unity instead of just fighting against despair and division. It was idealistic, maybe even naive, but Fenella was charmed by his earnestness.

"The last thing I expected from you was such optimism," she said when he finished. "I thought you were the brooding academic type, all doom and gloom about humanity's failure to learn from history."

"I surprised myself," Din admitted. "Usually, I'm not a glass-half-full type of guy, but someone had to counteract Kian's gloom and inject some hope into the conversation. When everyone's convinced the situation is hopeless, that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Look at you, being all wise and philosophical." She squeezed his hand. "Though I have to admit that it's a bit naive, which is a funny thing to say about someone who's lived as long as you have and seen enough crap to sour them on humanity forever."

"Maybe that's exactly why I can still hope," Din said.

"I've seen humanity at its worst, but I've also seen it emerge from those depths time and again and climb higher than it was before.

Sometimes things have to become truly desperate before people rise against the tide of evil, but they always do.

The Brotherhood wins when we forget that resilience, that capacity to fight for what's right. "

There was something both beautiful and heartbreaking about Din's faith in humanity's better nature, especially when contrasted with her own hard-won cynicism.

When they reached Shira's house, Fenella knocked just to be sure and then opened the door a crack, peeking inside and sniffing.

"No coffee smell and no television noise in the background.

It seems like no one's home." She turned to Din and smiled.

"Good news all around. Shira is not home, and we have plenty of time before my shift.

The bad news is that I'm going to have to tell Atzil that I'll be leaving soon for Egypt. He's not going to be happy."

Din's hands settled on her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Don't worry about Atzil. He works for Kalugal, remember? He won't hold it against you, and he will take you back as soon as you return. I bet his bar never made as much money as when you were there."

"You might be right, but I wish I had more time to settle into my job." She stepped into the cool interior of the house. "I felt in my element for a change. I…"

The words died in her throat as Din kicked the door shut behind them and lifted her clean off her feet. Before she could do more than gasp, her back was against the wall, Din's body pinning her there as his mouth found hers in a kiss that made their public display seem chaste by comparison.

"Professor," she chuckled when he let her up for air, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist for balance. "What's gotten into you?"

"You," he said, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her stomach flip. When his lips found her throat, she had to bite back a moan. "Everything about you drives me to distraction," he murmured.

"Oh, my. You are such a sweet talker," she accused, but her hands were already working at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel skin against skin.

"Truth teller," he corrected, carrying her down the hallway toward her bedroom with an ease that never failed to thrill her. Immortal strength was a beautiful thing when properly applied.

He set her on her feet just inside her bedroom door, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other. Fenella hadn't missed the desire burning in his eyes, and also something deeper, more meaningful. This wasn't just physical attraction, though there was plenty of that.

This was love, connection, recognition.

This was two souls finding each other despite impossible odds.

"You're incredible," Fenella said quietly, needing him to understand. "But I'm still not ready to say those three words to you."

"I know." He cupped her face. "I'm good with you just letting me love you."

The tenderness in his voice, the patience in his eyes—it undid something inside her.

She'd spent so long protecting herself, building walls to keep others at a safe distance, yet Din didn't attack those walls or demand they come down.

He simply stood outside them, steady and sure, waiting for her to open the gate.

"You really are too good to be true," she murmured, then pulled his head down for another kiss.

This one was different from the desperate passion against the wall. This was exploration, communion, a slow burn that built gradually until they were both breathing hard.

Din's hands tangled in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss, while hers mapped the planes of his chest through his partially unbuttoned shirt.

When they finally broke apart, Fenella felt like she was floating. "We have a few hours," she said, her voice husky. "Before my shift at the bar."

"Then we'd better make them count." The smile he gave her was pure wickedness.

"Is that a challenge, Professor?"

"More like a promise."

She laughed. "Bold words. Let's see if you can back them up."

"Oh, I intend to." He backed her toward the bed with predatory grace. "Thoroughly."

The back of her knees hit the mattress, and she sat down hard, looking up at him with anticipation thrumming through her veins.

Din knelt before her, placing his hands on her ankles, and removed her shoes. "Still thinking about disappointing Atzil?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of her ankle that sent shivers up her leg.

"Atzil who?" she murmured, which earned her one of those rare full smiles that transformed his face.

"That's what I thought." He pulled her pants down with ease, and as his lips traced a path up her calf, Fenella let her head fall back, surrendering to the moment.

"Din?"

"Mmm?" He'd reached her knee, and the scrape of his stubble against her inner thigh was doing dangerous things to her composure.

"You are overdressed for the occasion, Professor."

His laugh rumbled against her skin. "Patience, my love."