Page 22

DIN

F enella's blissed-out expression was the stuff dreams were made of, except fifty years of dreams paled beside the reality of her.

"I can practically hear the gears turning in that professor brain of yours," she said without opening her eyes.

How had she known that he was looking at her?

Din lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I'm not thinking. I'm cataloging, storing this moment away like a precious artifact."

She opened her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Din."

Was that a promise? It sounded like it, and he was going to pretend like it was.

"I know." He shifted and ran his hand down her back, capturing her ass and pulling her closer against his chest. "But I am a collector, not of artifacts but of moments.

I record them and store them in the album inside my mind, so I can retrieve them anytime I want and refill my cup of joy. It has been empty for far too long."

She propped herself on an elbow, studying his face with those dark eyes that had haunted him for decades. "What was it like for you in the years I was gone? Did you think of me often?"

He knew she hadn't thought of him, so admitting that he'd thought of her was hard. Women did not appreciate men who fawned over them too much. They liked working for the attention they were getting.

"I was pretty lonely," he admitted. "But that's the lot of most immortals.

We can't form relationships with mortals, and immortals who we are not related to are hard to find.

So, I did what most of my clan members do and found fulfillment in studying a new field I was interested in and later working in it. "

Her lips quirked up in a semi-smile. "I bet you rarely slept alone."

"Waking up next to a woman I had no interest in was not a good idea, so I made it a rule to always go home and sleep in my bed alone."

She nodded. "I was the same. That's why I never invited guys to my place. I always went to theirs so I could sneak out the moment they fell asleep."

His fangs started itching, which they shouldn't have since he'd emptied his venom glands only a couple of hours ago.

"Perhaps we shouldn't talk about past lovers.

" He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm jealous of any man you've spent any time with, even if it was platonic.

Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, and I couldn't understand my obsession with a human I should have forgotten.

I couldn't stand Max because he was a constant reminder of what I couldn't have. "

"I hope you truly forgave him." Fenella cupped his cheek. "It wasn't his fault. He was there, and you weren't. Simple as that."

There was nothing simple about losing fifty years he could have spent with Fenella or all the suffering she'd endured during that time. But Max wasn't the one to blame.

Din was angrier with himself than he'd been with Max.

If he hadn't been so hesitant, he would have approached Fenella first, and he would have been the one to induce her transition to immortality.

But he'd chickened out, and his inaction resulted in Max seducing Fenella and turning her from a Dormant into an immortal without any of them being any the wiser.

Hell, if he wasn't such an asshole and had just accepted Max's apology, he would have pursued Fenella after Max had left, and he would have been there for her when she'd transitioned, explaining what was happening to her and bringing her into the clan's fold.

They could have been together all this time.

The old pain lanced through him before he pushed it aside with an effort. "It's all in the past, love. We should focus on the here and now."

She smiled. "A borrowed bed in the middle of a Sunday afternoon." There was humor in her voice. "Could be worse."

"But it could be better." He pulled her with him and shifted to his back so she was on top of him. "We can ask for our own place."

She was quiet for a long moment, and he could feel the tension in her body as she wrestled with what he'd suggested. "Eventually, we will, but we have the mission to Egypt coming up, and changing housing arrangements before we return doesn't make sense."

He was a little disappointed but also encouraged. She hadn't said no. She'd said not yet.

"I've been thinking about what Bridget said." Fenella laid her cheek on his chest. "About us being family."

The non-sequitur threw him. "You and your cousins?"

"Yeah, but it's more than that. This whole immortal community is connected in some way, and it all works.

Some are tied by blood, while others are bound by choice and circumstance.

I've spent so long running from connections, convinced that caring about people would only lead to pain.

But maybe that's just another wall I built. "

"Walls serve a purpose." Din caressed her back. "They protect us when we need protecting."

"But they also keep things out that might be good for us.

I'm tired of living behind walls, Din. Tired of running, of always having one foot out the door.

But I don't know how to be any other way.

Staying put feels like a trap, no matter how hard I convince myself that it's not. I think I need a shrink."

"You can talk to Vanessa."

"She's busy."

"I know she is, but I'm sure she would find the time for you. Maybe she can give you some tools, so you can work on this on your own."

Fenella lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "That's a great idea. I hadn't thought of it like that. To me, a shrink is an office with a couch and a spectacled lady asking me how I feel about this or that."

He chuckled. "Real life is not like movies."

She pouted. "How would you know? Have you ever visited a psychologist's office?"

"Can't say that I have, but I know that Vanessa doesn't have a couch in hers."

"Oh." She laid her cheek back on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his belly. "What if I'm unfixable? What if this urge to flee never goes away? What if I'm too broken even for the mighty Vanessa?"

"You're not broken." He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head. "Wounded, cautious, skittish, but not broken. You just need more time to heal."

"How can you say that with such confidence, Professor?"

"Broken things can't connect, can't take risks. And you're doing all of those things. You have a new job you enjoy, you're making friends, and you're letting me love you." He smiled. "You're even worried about disappointing Atzil. Those aren't the actions of someone who's broken."

The truth was that he was talking out of his ass because he knew next to nothing about psychology, but he knew that Fenella was strong. She was a survivor. Besides, all she needed was to believe in her ability to heal, and she would.

"Well, when you put it like that, Professor, who am I to argue?"

"I'm right and you know it." He shifted them so they were face to face on the pillow.

"You're one of the strongest people I've ever met, Fenella.

You survived things that would have destroyed others.

And you're still here, still fighting, still capable of joy and connection and terrible jokes at inappropriate times. "

"My jokes are excellent," she protested, but she was smiling.

"They're terrible and you know it." He kissed her nose. "I love them anyway."

"You love everything about me." There was wonder in her voice, as if she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Guilty as charged." He traced the line of her jaw with one finger. "Though I'm particularly fond of certain aspects."

"Oh?" Her eyes sparked with mischief. "Do tell."

"Well," he said, affecting his most scholarly tone, "from a purely academic perspective, of course, I find your rebellious streak particularly fascinating."

"Purely academic?" She shifted closer, her body pressing against his in decidedly non-academic ways.

"Absolutely. I'm conducting a thorough study of all your fascinating attributes. It's important to be comprehensive in one's research."

"And what have you concluded so far?"

He pretended to consider. "That further investigation is required. Extensive further investigation."

The sound of a throaty laugh warmed him from the inside out. "How fortunate that we have the time."

"About that..." He glanced at the bedside clock. "Don't you need to get ready for your shift soon?"

"I think we have a few more minutes to spare. I love cuddling with you in bed."

He pulled her closer. "I don't want to be responsible for you being late on your third night on the job."

"Look at you, being all responsible and considerate." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "It's presumptuous of you to think it's up to you to decide, but I find it oddly attractive."

"Everything I do is oddly attractive to you."

"Confident much?"

He trailed his hand down her back, satisfied when she shivered. "I've made a study of it, remember?"

"And they say romance is dead," she said with a smile. "You can make it up to me when we go to Egypt. I've never been there. What's it like?"

"Hot," he said. "Sandy. Full of tourists and merchants trying to separate them from their money."

"You're really selling it."

"But if you manage to filter out all the noise, there is something about it. The weight of history, maybe. You can feel the age of the place in your bones. And at night, in the desert, the stars are incredible."

"Sounds lovely."

"Well, not really, but I love the history of it. The mystery. Every dig site could hold answers to questions we don't even know to ask yet." He paused. "I think you'll find it fascinating, even with the heat and the sand and the aggressive carpet sellers."

"Carpet sellers?"

"They're relentless. Jasmine will probably need to hold you back from throttling them."

She grinned. "You know me so well."

"I'm learning more every day."