Protector(109)
Caitlin could understand those feelings all too well, because she’d been thinking the same thing about him. What they shared wasn’t exactly like a consort bond, because that sort of connection was only for a prima and her soul mate, but it seemed something almost as powerful had brought her and Alex together. Her mother had said it was like that for witches sometimes, that they were somehow able to recognize in another person the quality that would make them their perfect pairing, but Caitlin had dismissed the notion as overly romantic, and had thought it couldn’t actually be like that in real life. Not when she’d had such bad luck before when it came to men. Or guys, she amended mentally. Before Alex, they were all just guys.
He was something different, though. Something special.
She tried to keep her tone casual as she said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either, but I just thought it was because of your outstanding gorgeousness.”
“Oh, now you’re going to give me a swelled head.”
“That’s not such a bad thing,” she responded, moving her hand down to the crotch of his jeans.
He gusted out a breath. “That’s dangerous, Caitlin.”
“I know,” she said. But he made no move to rub against her and escalate things. She withdrew her hand and asked, “What is it?”
“You’re going to think it’s crazy.”
“I grew up in Jerome, Alex. It takes a lot to make me think something is crazy.”
Smiling, he took her hand and kissed it. Shivers ran down her spine, and she could feel her pulse beginning to speed up. Funny how even the little things he did could cause such a strong physical reaction in her.
“The next time we’re together, I want it to be in the house. Our house. I know it’ll take a while to make the transition, but — ”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “I don’t think it’s crazy. Besides, I know you hate how your feet hang off the edge of my crappy little bed.”
“So you’re willing to wait?” He sounded surprised, and she couldn’t blame him. At least half the time, she was the one who initiated things between them. He’d once said he didn’t know what blazed hotter, her blood or her red hair. Then she’d teased him for only being attracted to her hair, whereupon he’d taken it upon himself to prove that there were actually a great many things about her that attracted him.
“Oh, hell, no, I’m not waiting. Not that long, anyway,” she replied at once, pushing herself up from the couch and thinking furiously. “I can pack a few things, and come back for the rest whenever. It’s not like I have to be here for school — finals were last week. And if we leave in the next fifteen minutes, we can be down in Tucson in time for a late dinner. You still owe me that chimichanga, you know.”
She headed off toward the bedroom, Alex only a few feet behind her so he could get the duffle bag he’d brought up for the weekend. Clearly, he didn’t want to wait, either. And why should he? They’d both been waiting their entire lives for one another.
The time for waiting was over.