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Chapter Twelve

I f any woman was worth waiting centuries for, it was Tamsin.

Gawain lay with her head tucked under his chin, her breath fanning across his bare chest. Sunlight crept around the blinds to leave stripes on the carpet.

The scent of baking drifted from another apartment, reminding him it was time to eat.

Gawain ignored his stomach. Their nest under the quilt was too snug to move.

Instead, he let his eyes drift shut, feeling the light beat of Tamsin’s heart.

Her warm, soft weight was delicious and sweet, an armful he refused to surrender.

And why would he? This morning he felt as if, for the second time, he’d been awakened from that cold death of stone.

He shifted, careful not to disturb Tamsin.

She was draped across him, her hair scattered over the sheets like skeins of golden silk.

Her face was soft with sleep, the rounded curve of her cheek almost girlish.

He longed to run a finger over the arch of her brow, the upturned tip of her nose, but was reluctant to disturb her.

Laughter rang from the street below, followed by a puppy’s yap. The noise made Tamsin stir, her nose wrinkling as her eyes squeezed shut. It was adorable. Gawain willed her back to sleep, and it seemed to work.

He didn’t use magic—never that. By the time Gawain had grown tall enough to ride a horse, he’d discovered his mother’s spell cupboard and learned which potions could rot the flesh of a living man or destroy a village with a plague of boils.

He’d seen her strike down a serving maid who’d dared to steal a ham from the castle pantry.

The memory of the poor girl’s crippling illness still made his skin crawl.

And yet here he was, his heart reaching for Tamsin as if she were the sun.

Little by little she had been slipping past his defenses, until last night she’d broken through.

And why not? She’d given him back his brother.

To him, that act shone like a beacon on the dark sea of terrible deeds he had witnessed.

It did not chase back all the darkness, but neither could it be ignored.

Tamsin woke with a lazy stretch, reminding him of a contented cat. She lifted her head, strands of golden hair falling into her eyes. Gawain brushed them back, letting himself sink into the warm brown of her gaze. “Good morning,” he said.

She squirmed delightfully until her mouth reached his. “Good morning, my good knight.”

Her kiss was the brush of apple blossoms against his skin. Sudden hunger surged in him, demanding more bed play. “Come here.”

“No, you come here.” Tamsin straddled him, her hair falling around them like a curtain of gold.

She kissed his eyes, his nose, his chin, taking her time to find his mouth again.

When she did, it was to nip and suck, drawing out the simple act of kissing into an epic poem.

Gawain cupped her breasts, their velvety smooth weight enticing.

He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, bringing them to straining peaks.

She gasped and squirmed, sparking a flood of heat to his nether regions.

He chuckled, earning a searing glance that spoke of exquisite torments. Tamsin was an instinctive seductress.

“Are you ready to surrender?” she said in grave tones.

With little effort, Gawain rolled her over, tangling them both in the soft mounds of covers. He highly approved of these luxurious modern beds. “You have much to learn of warfare, Mistress Greene.”

“Are you going to lay siege to me again?”

“Indeed.” He dug her out of the billows of the comforter, appreciating her slender, smooth form anew. Her legs were long and lean, delicate as a doe’s. He positioned himself between them, leaning forward to run his tongue over the graceful planes of her stomach. “I intend to devour you.”

With that he bent to her most private entry, breaching the gates with tongue and teeth. Tamsin tasted salty-sweet and pure as April sunshine, and she shivered for him as he found the secrets of her inner chambers. “Are you ready to surrender?” he growled.

“Not so fast,” she said, though she was panting by then.

Then Gawain found the exact spot that crumbled her defenses. She came around his fingers, muscles contracting as she cried out. But when she finally stilled, she made it clear they were not done. “I see you have a tower in need of capture and demolition.”

Gawain let Tamsin have her way. Hot and slick, she closed around him, let her warm him with her playful teasing and the touch of her ivory skin.

The sun seeped through the curtains, lighting her from behind like an angel in a church window, all gold and brightness.

By the time her conquest was done, he was drunk on woman and bliss.

She slid down beside him, one slender arm thrown over his chest. “White flag?”

He closed one hand over her bottom. “I reserve the right to initiate an exchange of prisoners.”

“I thought you said last night that you didn’t take prisoners,” she said with a sly glance. “Change your mind?”

The moment was broken by a thump on the apartment stairs and a child’s bright laughter. The world was coming to life, however much Gawain wished to deny it. They kissed again, but soon she was sliding from his grasp and reaching for her robe. “We should see how Beaumains is faring.”

Gawain caught her hand. “You would leave me so soon? You’re my healer.”

“So?”

“I’m sure I have a fever that needs tending.”

She gave him a withering look. “I hear ice water is good for that.”

He sank back into the pillow. “You are a cruel woman.”

She knotted the tie of her robe, but sat on the bed beside him. Her fingers trailed along the scar that slashed his ribs. It was an unconscious gesture, but it pleased him. He liked that she was comfortable with his body, content to curl against him for comfort.

“Finding your brother was a victory, but there is so much to do yet.” She sighed, breath warm against the skin of his chest.

Gawain understood. “None of this will be easy, but I’ll be at your side.”

“You are my knight in shining armor,” she murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. A smile lurked behind her soft brown eyes.

He couldn’t stifle a grin. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not in armor. I’m not wearing anything at all.”

She gave him a kiss that said she had noticed and approved. Gawain smiled against her lips, feeling like a man reborn.

Tamsin held on to her joy while she dressed and made breakfast, fed her ravenous warriors and then erased any signs of intrusion from the vacant apartment next door.

She wasn’t sure how to solve the problem of housing extra knights, but at least now she had a whole day to figure out what to do with Beaumains.

Meanwhile, Gawain took his brother off to find modern clothes and acquaint him with the basics of the twenty-first century.

Gawain had been reluctant to leave Tamsin alone, but she refused to be afraid on a sunny Saturday morning.

Besides, she needed some peace and quiet. She had sleuthing to do.

Tamsin began by phoning Stacy.

“What’s up?” Stacy asked. “You have that take-charge tone in your voice.”

“I’m hot on the trail of those books I’m looking for.”

“You found a clue to their location?”

“Better than that. I found a set of car keys.” Tamsin fished in her backpack and pulled out the set Nimueh had dropped at the church. “I need a favor.”

“Is it legal?” Stacy asked.

“Probably not,” Tamsin said with a sigh.

“The car keys have one of those tags where you can return lost keys through the mail. The code on the tag doesn’t give me the address where the vehicle belongs, but the charity who sells the tags has a registry that does.

Can you get our little sister to work her computer magic and find that address? ”

“You want Clary to hack into a charity’s database?” Stacy asked incredulously.

Although it wasn’t common among the coven families, their father had insisted his children receive an education in a human university. Where Stacy had studied law and Tamsin history, Clarissa had gone into computer science.

“It’s for a good cause,” Tamsin pleaded. “I don’t want to do a seeking spell. I think the, uh, person with the library is a wee bit dangerous, and the more I stay off his radar, the better.”

Tamsin finished on a grimace. It must have communicated itself, because Stacy made a noise of assent. “I’ll ask her. I know the Elders want those books. I’ll call you back when we find something.”

Tamsin put the phone down and began washing up the breakfast dishes in her tiny sink. She was putting away the last freshly dried plate a half hour later when the phone rang. She picked it up, wondering if Clary could have found an answer already.

“Hello, Ms. Greene. This is Benjamin Waller.”

Tamsin nearly dropped the phone The crisp, dry voice belonged to the Chief Elder of the Shadowring Coven. “H-hello, sir. To what do I owe the honor of your call?”

“Your request for information on the owner of a late-model Lexus SUV. Your younger sister alerted me to the fact that you asked for her assistance with this unorthodox search.”

Tamsin cursed Clary. She had counted on her little sister’s rebel streak to keep this quiet. That had been a mistake.

“Oh, don’t blame her,” Waller said smoothly, as if reading Tamsin’s thoughts. “There have been a few indiscretions on Clarissa’s part that convinced me to shorten her leash. She does nothing without keeping me informed.”

Tamsin’s mouth went dry. “How much trouble is she in?”

“Not enough for you to worry about,” Waller replied. His tone all but patted her on the head. “This is just a course correction for the moment. She is still painfully young, after all. Plenty of time for her to settle down and form more acceptable habits.”