Then all bets were off.
This man. She shook her head, trying to knock loose the possessive urges growing inside her.
Tried.
Failed.
Stepped back another foot. “Lunch sounds great.”
And it was. He spread a soft, worn blanket on the smooth rock in front of a cave opening and set out cold meat, pickled salad, apples, and even a few pieces of chocolate. As they ate, they talked about dragons and she filled him in on gossip from the capital city.
“There’s a steady influx of Earth tourists now. Won’t be long before they come in this direction.” The only reason they hadn’t yet was because there weren’t any spaceports on this continent, and travel within the atmosphere was restricted to official government shuttles.
But the writing was on the wall—tourism meant an increase in desperately needed revenue, so what the Earthlings wanted to see, they would get to see.
The thought made Britt’s stomach turn over.
Bjorn clearly felt the same way. He pulled his knees up in front of him and wrapped his arms around them. Every muscle in his body flexed as he stared out over the valley far below them. “They’re not welcome here.”
“Make that clear to this group of visitors, then.”
He gave her a hard look. “I’m making it clear to you.”
“I’m not one of them. I’m the hired help who got on the trip because Inge thinks I’m cute and I happen to know how to ride. I have no authority.”
“And if you did?”
Why did this feel like a test? Well, if it was, she’d pass with flying colours. She had no doubt that her feelings about turning The Outerlands into a throw-back spectacle for wealthy Earthlings would be right in line with Bjorn’s. “I’d make the entire continent a national park and severely restrict access. Guided visits only.”
“Because…” He dropped his chin, hooding his gaze. But he still looked at her. She felt his scrutiny burning into her skin.
Ah. So it was a test. “Because these beasts were here first. And they’re not like other animals. This is their home and they need to be protected. Or they will fight back, and it will be…” She shivered, thinking of the destruction the dragons could cause before being taken down by man-made weapons. “It wouldn’t be their fault. No, we need to keep the mountain range safe for them.”
He nodded slowly, and with each thoughtful dip of his head, he relaxed bit by bit.
She edged closer. “I think we were meant to find each other, Bjorn.”
“I have no doubt,” he said gruffly.
“You say that like it might not be a good thing.” Maybe it was her turn to test him. What were they doing on the top of this mountain, anyway?
He turned his head toward her. The wind wasn’t strong—the weather had stayed surprisingly calm all afternoon—but his hair still ruffled in the breeze. He hadn’t shaved for a few days and his strong jaw was covered in the start of a dark beard. From his broad shoulders to his corded, hair-dusted forearms, he made an achingly perfect picture of masculinity, but it was the tortured look in his eye that undid her.
“Whatever happens…” she started, her voice cracking into an emotion-filled whisper.
He shook his head. “Don’t. I know what I want to happen.”
She couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask. But she held her breath as he closed the gap between them, not daring to move a muscle as he dusted his fingertips over her cheek and down her neck, because if this wasn’t really happening, she still wanted the fantasy.
If he wasn’t going to kiss her, she’d imagine that he was, and it would have to be enough.
He groaned her name. She closed her eyes as he cupped the back of her neck, his fingers strong and warm against her skin. Time paused as he held her, as her pulse pounded in her neck and her mouth watered for a taste of him, and then she got that very wish.
Bjorn’s lips brushed against hers, and his next groan wasn’t decipherable as her name or a curse or anything, muffled as it was because they crashed together.
Their first touch had nothing on the fiery electricity zinging off them in all directions as he commanded entrance to her mouth. She gave it most willingly, delighting in how sure and skilled his tongue was.
Oh, her monk could kiss.
Britt might die now from happiness, and what a shame that would be, because she didn’t want to miss what would hopefully come next.
She gasped as he moved his mouth down her neck. Dragging a fresh inhale into her chest, she whimpered with pleasure as his other arm swept around her waist, tucking her tight into the curve of his larger body. He kissed her again, deeper and more insistent this time.
More insistent.