Page 39

FENELLA

F enella kicked off her dusty sandals the moment she entered their bedroom suite, resisting the urge to collapse face-first onto the nice clean bed.

After helping Esag, Davuh, and Roven wrap and pack hundreds of figurines for shipping carefully, and then spending the afternoon trekking through the pyramids and the surrounding desert, she felt like she'd been rolled in dust and sand and baked in an oven.

"I don't even want to sit down." She leaned down to pick up the dirty sandals and headed toward the bathroom. "I feel like I'm covered in five thousand years' worth of dust."

Din chuckled as he closed the door behind them, looking equally dusty and sweaty. His usually neatly combed hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had a tan that looked suspiciously dark, which made her think that it would probably wash off with some soap and water.

"The hazards of archaeological tourism." He followed her toward the bathroom. "Wait until you spend a day at a dig."

"Not planning to." She gingerly touched her hair and grimaced. "There's sand in places sand should never be. I need a shower. Actually, no—I need a shower and then a long soak in that glorious bathtub."

"That sounds like a plan," Din said. "Since we've all eaten out, we don't have to come down for dinner, and we can retire for the night."

There was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at his plans, and even though she was tired, she was entirely on board with them.

Fenella started on the buttons of her shirt. "Join me in the shower?"

His eyes darkened with interest. "I was hoping you'd say that. I need someone to scrub my back."

She rolled her eyes. "Is that the only reason you want to shower with me?"

"Among others," he murmured, reaching out to pluck a piece of straw from her hair. "How did that get in there?"

"From packing up Esag's workshop. Some of his older pieces were wrapped in straw." She pulled her shirt over her head. "Last one in the shower has to wash the other's back."

"Is that supposed to be punishment?" Din asked, but he was already stripping off his clothes with impressive speed.

They reached the bathroom door at the same time, both laughing as they squeezed through together.

"I guess we will be washing each other," Din said as he turned on the water in the shower, testing the temperature until he was satisfied that it was just right.

The bathroom was one of the bedroom suite's best features—marble everything, a shower large enough for four people, and a bathtub that could probably double as a small swimming pool. Steam was already beginning to fog the mirror as the shower reached the perfect temperature.

"Come here," Din said, his playful tone shifting to something warmer. "Let me help you with that hair tie."

She moved into his arms, sighing as his fingers worked through her tangled hair with gentle patience. There was something incredibly intimate about the care he took not to pull on her tangles. When he finally managed to free her hair from the elastic band, she released a breath.

"I didn't realize how much that bothered me until you took it off. I don't like pulling my hair into a ponytail."

"Then I'm glad I made it better." He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She turned in his arms, looking up at him. "I'm pretty sure my hair is now twenty percent sand."

"Thirty percent, at least," he agreed solemnly. "Possibly forty."

She swatted his chest. "Help me wash it."

"Yes, ma'am."

As she stepped into the shower, the first blast of hot water was heavenly. Fenella groaned in pure pleasure as it sluiced over her overheated, sweaty skin, watching the water turn beige as it swirled down the drain. "It's like we've just come back from the beach."

"It looks that way." He laughed.

"That's amazing." She tilted her head back. "I may never leave this shower."

"That would make flying home tomorrow rather difficult." Din reached for the shampoo. "I don't think Kalugal will be okay with me dismantling his shower and taking it with us on the plane."

"Details," she murmured, then made another pleased sound as his hands worked the shampoo through her hair. "Oh, you're so good at that."

"I have many talents," he said, his Scottish accent more pronounced as it always was when he was relaxed or aroused or both. "Hair washing is just one of them."

"What are the others?" she asked, eyes closed as he massaged her scalp.

"Well, there's my ability to spot ugly floor lamps and pay too much for them."

"That's a talent?"

"Absolutely. Not everyone can spot a truly hideous lamp at fifty paces. It takes a special eye."

"A special something, anyway," she agreed, then squeaked as he tickled her ribs in retaliation.

What started as playful soon shifted to something more as they took turns soaping each other's bodies. Din's hands were thorough, and Fenella returned the favor with equal attention to detail.

"You missed a spot," she said, running her soapy hand over her breast.

"Did I?" His voice had gone rough. "How careless of me."

"Very," she agreed, then gasped as he cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple.

"Can't miss such an important spot." He repeated on the other side.

He backed her against the shower wall and bent his head to twirl his tongue over her nipple. When he nipped it lightly, she jerked, and he laved the small hurt away and then flicked over it with the tip of his tongue.

She gasped when he rubbed two fingers over her entrance, and when he dropped to his knees in front of her, she threaded her fingers in his hair.

He picked up her leg and placed her foot on his shoulder, opening her to his gaze. She should have felt scandalized but didn't. There was nothing she felt like hiding from him, nothing she wanted to hold back. They were one.

He plunged his tongue into her, and when she rewarded him with a throaty moan, he switched to licking her clit.

Her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed if he hadn't been holding on to her, and then she was climaxing and barely aware of how she was still upright.

Suddenly, she found herself turned around, and her hands instinctively braced against the marble.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and entered her with one swift thrust, filling her so completely, so deliciously, that tears prickled her eyes.

What a strange time to get teary-eyed, but Fenella didn't care. Din accepted her the way she was, and nothing she did could turn him off or bother him.

He started pounding into her fast and hard, the slapping sounds of their bodies against each other echoing in the enclosed shower.

Another orgasm rose within her, like a wave rushing to break against the shore, and when it crested and she yelled his name, he climaxed as well, filling her with his essence.

"Din..." she breathed.

"I love the way you say my name," he murmured against her neck.

She'd expected him to bite her as their passion crested like he usually did, but he didn't. Not this time.

It was a shame, really, and not just because she craved the venom trip. She could use the therapeutic effect that would have erased all the aches and pains from a long day of packing and trekking.

Fenella couldn't help but make a small sound of disappointment, but as her mind cleared, she remembered that Din had bitten her that morning, and usually he couldn't produce venom more than once a day. Besides, she would have blacked out, and they couldn't have enjoyed the bathtub together.

"I wish you could have bitten me," she said, running her hands through his wet hair. "I love your bites."

"I know you do." He kissed the spot he usually bit and withdrew his shaft. "You are a venom junkie."

"Your venom junkie," she corrected, then squealed as he turned her around and swept her up in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the bath, obviously. Can't have you walking on these wet floors."

"I'm immortal," she reminded him as he carried her to the tub.

"Better safe than sorry." He set her down carefully in the tub.

After fiddling a little with the water temperature, Din climbed in across from her, and they spent a few minutes just adjusting positions until they were comfortable, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist.

The bathtub was even better than the shower.

"This is perfect," she murmured, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"Mmm," he agreed, pressing a kiss to her damp hair. "Though I keep expecting Joseph to burst in with towels or tea or something."

"He wouldn't dare. Kalugal would have his head."

"Good man, Kalugal."

They floated in silence for a while, the hot water and lavender-scented bath oils working their magic. But as relaxed as her body was becoming, Fenella's mind kept circling back to tomorrow.

They were flying home, leaving this Egyptian adventure behind them and starting their lives together.

"I'm nervous," she said quietly.

Din's arms tightened around her. "About what?"

"About going home. About us."

She felt his body tense behind her. "What about us?"

"I've never lived with anyone before," she said in a rush. "Not as a couple. What if the magic fades once we're back? What if you realize I'm terrible to live with? What if?—"

"Fenella." He turned her in his arms so she was facing him, water sloshing dangerously close to the tub's rim. "Look at me."

She did, finding his eyes serious but warm.

"First of all, there's no magic to fade. What we have is real, built on love, friendship, and respect. That's not going anywhere. And secondly, we are truelove mates, as proven by all the obstacles we had to overcome to be together."

"But—"

"Thirdly." He placed a finger gently over her lips, "I already know that you're terrible to live with. You leave wet towels on the floor, you steal the blanket, and you have questionable taste in late-night television."

"Hey!" She tried to look offended but couldn't quite manage it.

"And I love all of it," he finished. "Even your silly reality show addiction."

"It's not an addiction," she protested. "It's a healthy interest in human drama."

"Of course, it is." He cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. "The point is, I know who you are, Fenella: the good, the bad, the occasionally criminally insane. And I want all of it. All of you. Wet towels and all."

She felt tears prick at her eyes. "You can't mean that."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Well, no…"

"There you have it." He leaned and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm ready to tackle anything and everything with you. I would like to ask the Clan Mother to officiate at our wedding in a grand ceremony attended by the entire clan. I want it all."

He kissed her then, thoroughly.

This time, their lovemaking was slower and tender, rather than urgent. The warm water and oils made every touch silky smooth, every movement languid and deliberate.

When they finally emerged from the tub, the water had cooled and their fingers were thoroughly prune-like, but Fenella felt more relaxed than she had in a long time.

"I could sleep for a week," she announced, toweling off with one of Kalugal's luxurious Egyptian cotton towels.

"We have about ten hours before we need to leave for the airport," Din said, checking his watch.

He was so literal that sometimes it was funny.

Naked in bed, Fenella sighed contentedly as she curled into Din's side. "You know what I'm most excited about?"

"What's that?"

"Decorating our house. Making it ours." She propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "I've never done that before."

He wrapped his arm around her. "We will go shopping together and find other hideous but unique items."

She laughed. "You have terrible decorating taste."

"My taste is not terrible," he protested. "It's eclectic."

"Din, you bought a lamp that looks like a brass octopus with tentacles."

"Octopus? It looks nothing like an octopus. That lamp has character," he insisted, then yelped as she poked his ribs. "Fine, if you hate it that much…"

"I love it," she admitted, settling back against him. "I love how excited you get about the weirdest things. Like that plate with the constipated camel."

"He's not constipated; he's contemplating."

"He's definitely constipated." She yawned. "But I love that you saw him and immediately thought, 'This needs to come home with us.'"

"You're mocking me," he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm not," she said seriously. "I do love it. No one else would get so enthusiastic about ugly lamps and constipated camel plates. It's very... you."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"It is." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "I love that you're already thinking about making our home special, even if your version of special is a bit strange." She yawned again. "I'm keeping you, you know. Terrible taste and all."

"Good," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Because I'm keeping you, too. Messy bathrooms and reality-show addiction and all."

"Healthy interest," she mumbled, already half asleep.

"Of course. My mistake."

As sleep pulled her under, Fenella felt the last of her anxiety fade away. "Love you," she whispered into the darkness.

"Love you too," came the reply, along with a gentle squeeze.