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F ane threw an arm around Marjani’s neck. “We did it!” He planted a kiss on her furred cheek.

She rubbed her face against his, purring loudly.

“And damn.” His eyes widened. “I have my Gift back.”

She let out a happy yelp.

“Thanks to you, my hard-ass negotiator.” He gave her another hug and then rose to his feet. “But I don’t think we’re in Iceland anymore.”

They were on a narrow dirt path scattered with lichen-covered rocks. A chilly wind ruffled her fur and whipped Fane’s hair back from his face. A half mile to the south, colorful boats bobbed in the harbor of a small fishing village.

“Well, hell.” He squeezed his nape. “That’s the village where I grew up. He sent me back to Newfoundland. And I still have a house just outside the village. It’s even empty—the renters left a few months ago and I haven’t gotten around to finding someone else. You up for a run?”

Of course.

She passed the blue velvet bag to him, keeping the quartz in her mouth, and waited as he secured the diamonds in one of the backpack’s pockets before setting off down the trail, her loping behind.

The path wound along the cliff before sloping downward through a sweet-smelling pine forest. Halfway down, they came across a stream.

Fane dropped to his knees to drink in great gulps, while she crouched beside him, lapping as fast as she could.

It was delicious, clean and cold. She felt like she hadn’t had a drink in days, other than that half-glass of nectar.

How long had they been wandering in the maze, anyway?

After drinking their fill, they set off again.

Ten minutes later, they reached a windswept headland on which was perched a little blue saltbox house with white trim.

The wide front porch held a couple of weathered Adirondack chairs and a trio of empty flowerpots.

Fane felt under one of the pots and emerged with a key.

“The water and electricity should still be on. A woman from the village comes in every couple of weeks to clean.” He unlocked the door and ushered her in. “Welcome to my home, love.”

They were in a small foyer with wide pine flooring and a timber-frame ceiling that opened into the kitchen. Fane set the backpack on a kitchen table the same bright blue as the house. To their left was a living room with a large fieldstone fireplace and rustic wood furniture.

Marjani liked it. A lot. She bumped her head against Fane’s leg to tell him so.

“The bedroom is upstairs,” he said. “And there’s a bath up there, too.”

The refrigerator was turned off, the door left open to air it. “There’s no food in the house,” Fane said as he closed the door and plugged the refrigerator in. “But we can get something in town.” He pulled out his wallet and swore. “Bastard even took my cash.”

Marjani decided it was time she shifted. As she rose to her feet, naked, she removed the quartz from her mouth and set it on the table.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” Fane’s blue eyes took her in hungrily. A lean arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close for a kiss. When he let her up, he set his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

Her brow creased. “Why?”

He indicated the house. “This is all I have now. I owned it before I accepted the geas , so he can’t take it from me. And I have a bank account in town—like the house, it’s mine from before I worked for the king. I’m not sure how much is in it, but it’s something.”

“Fane.” She framed his face. “I love it—and I don’t even have this much. I share a den with my brother.”

“But I wanted to give you—”

“Hey.” She set a finger on his mouth. “This isn’t the fae court. You don’t have to buy my love.”

He blinked and looked at her, arrested. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.”

He sucked her finger into his mouth, and her inner thighs clenched. His mouth was so warm and wet, the eyes gazing into hers promising heated things. He released her finger and she swayed toward him.

He kissed her and then set her a little away. “Lord knows I want you, but I should feed you first. We can get something to eat in town.”

“I am hungry.” She slid her arms around his neck. “But I want this more.”

Fane’s hands moved down to grip her ass. He dragged her up against him so she could feel his erection through his leather pants. “I shouldn’t. You…”

He trailed off as she rubbed her breasts against his shirt, the material rasping pleasurably against her nipples.

“Yeah,” she said in husky whisper, “you should.”

He lowered his mouth to hers again. It was a deep kiss, full of need and love. She took that love into herself and returned it, stroking her tongue over his, sucking it into her mouth.

He traced his lips down her throat. He was licking her nipple when her smartphone pinged from the kitchen table.

“Leave it,” he murmured.

She drew a shaky inhale. “I can’t. It’s Adric. I should give him a call, let him know I’m okay.”

“Right.” He kissed his way across her breasts to her other nipple before releasing her. “Make it quick,” he said as she reached for the quartz.

“I will.” When she turned back, he was shrugging out of his shirt. The hand holding the quartz dropped to her side as she took him in: broad shoulders, an abdomen ridged with lean muscle. Curly hairs formed a dark T that arrowed into the waistband of the black leather pants encasing his long legs.

And he said she was beautiful… She swallowed, still not quite believing he belonged to her.

He dropped the shirt on a chair and rummaged in a cupboard for two glasses. She watched the play of his muscles across his back and shoulders as he ran the water and then filled the glasses.

That leather-clad ass was a woman’s hot dream—firm, muscled. Perfect. She wanted to lean forward and take a bite.

He turned to hand her a glass of water and caught her staring. His mouth quirked, but all he said was, “You thirsty?”

“Thanks.” She dragged in a breath and accepted the glass. “You know what? I’ll just text Adric for now.”

After taking a drink, she shot off a quick message to inform her brother she was safely out of Iceland and would call later. Then she sauntered the few feet to her sexy mate and stroked her fingers down the lean, hard muscles of his chest.

“Wanna show me the bedroom?”

His eyes glittered. “Fuck, yeah.”

Setting a hand on the small of her back, he urged her toward the living room and the stairs leading to the second floor. She barely had time to snatch up her quartz on the way by the table.

Fane stopped at the foot of the narrow flight of stairs. “After you,” he said with a gentlemanly nod.

She started up, and then realized his letting her go first had nothing to do with being a gentleman when he smoothed a hand down her ass. She laughed at him over her shoulder. “You’re a bad man, Fane Morningstar.”

He grinned back. “I like the view from back here.”

Joy bubbled up in her. And that was so wonderful, to feel happy when she was naked with a man—happy, and turned on.

She swiveled to face him and just to tease him, moved up, one step at a time, her gaze locked on his.

The grin wiped from his face. He followed after, stalking her, slow and sexy, his face level with her breasts. His gaze went to her nipples, which had formed hard points of arousal, and then down to the nest of curly black hair at the apex of her thighs.

She walked up another two steps, but Fane remained where he was so that his head was now level with her navel.

When she moved her foot to the next step, he reached out and snagged her by the hips, halting her.

His mouth touched the soft skin beneath her navel, and then moved lower to brush over her curls.

She stilled, waiting. And then his mouth touched her clit.

Heat streaked up her spine.

He lapped at the swollen bud of flesh, his tongue warm and wet. Her thighs tensed. He nudged her legs apart so he could get deeper, swiping his tongue over her sex.

Her lungs jerked. With a moan, she grabbed the railing and locked her knees so she wouldn’t fall down.

But he only took a few teasing licks before moving his mouth up her body again. He gave a hard suck to each nipple, leaving them moist and aching, and then turned her around.

“Keep going.” He caressed her bottom.

She forced herself to focus. She was only three steps from the top. She took them a little clumsily, but Fane was right there to steady her. He put an arm around her, his long fingers spreading over her belly, his lower body pressed against her ass, the leather cool in an exciting way.

The second floor was narrower than the main floor.

A slatted wood bed with matching end tables was at one end, and across the front wall was a row of four windows overlooking the ocean.

A ladder-back chair was set next to a bookcase spilling over with books, and a red door led to a bathroom with black-and-white tiles and a clawfoot tub.

Fane opened a couple windows to let in the air while she drew down a pretty red-and-white quilt. She set her quartz on an end table and then sat on the bed as he toed off his shoes and tried to peel off the leather pants. They got stuck partway down his thighs, and she smothered a laugh.

He grinned back. “Damn leather. But the ladies seem to like it.”

“This lady sure does.” She watched as he sat on the ladder-back chair and pulled the pants the rest of the way off along with his socks before rising to his feet, fully aroused.

Her eyes went to his cock, flushed and hard, the tip curving toward his stomach. She tensed, her amusement draining away. Her heart raced in a panicked little rhythm.

“Jani?” He took a step toward her and she had to force herself to remain seated. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. But—” She shook her head.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sitting on the bed beside her, he set his hand on the mattress between them, palm up.

She dug her nails into the sheets. “I thought—”

“What?” he prompted.

She made a low, unhappy sound. “That I was done with this. You’re my mate . How can I be afraid of you? And I was having fun, damn it.”