Sympathetic Magic(58)

“Hey,” he said. “What’re you thinking about?”

She hesitated for so long that he wasn’t certain she planned to reply. “Just…thinking.”

He could practically feel the turmoil within her, now that some of the effects of their lovemaking had subsided. The situation didn’t have to be this difficult for her, but it seemed as if she was determined to make it so, as if she couldn’t accept that the two of them were meant to be together. Well, time to make her realize she didn’t have any choice but to accept it.

“Okay, here’s a question,” he said. “But I want you to promise me one thing.”

Rolling over so she could face him, she replied, “Promise you what?”

“That when I ask you this question, you’ll answer quickly. Don’t think. Feel. Tell me from your gut.”

She gave a not very convincing laugh. “That sounds ominous.”

“Just promise.”

“Okay, I promise.”

He drew in a breath. “If someone asked you what you wanted, what you really wanted, for your life…what would you tell them?”

Although she’d promised, he’d still expected her to stop, weigh it in her mind, and then tell him something she thought was correct but wasn’t actually what she truly wanted.

But she stared straight at him, eyes dark and unblinking. “I’d tell them that I wanted to be with you, here, in this house. With no one else…and in no place else.”

Something hot and heavy seemed to grow in his chest, and he reached out and pulled her against him, kissing the crown of her head, holding her so close he could feel the beating of her heart within her breast. “Then we’ll just have to figure out a way to make that happen.”





12





This morning when Margot awoke, she knew exactly where she was: nestled in Lucas’ bed, curled up next to him, the warmth of his body combining with the weight of the blankets and comforter on top of them to make her deliciously cozy. The light peeking around the blinds was pale gray, not the brooding bruised color of a truly stormy sky. And blinking on the nightstand next to her was his clock/iPod dock, proving that the power must have come back on sometime during the night.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to move. Truth be told, she didn’t know what she should do. Last night, still half tipsy — and still drunk with the afterglow of another round of spectacular sex — she’d told him she wanted to be with him here. What had possessed her? Yes, it had been the deepest truth of her heart, but even though he’d assured her they would figure out a way to make it work, she didn’t share his optimism. Coming up for a three-day snowbound fling was one thing. Moving past that to contemplate a life together? Not quite so simple, was it?

Beside her, Lucas stirred, and she felt him reach beneath the covers to touch her fingers, give them a squeeze. His eyes seemed to focus on her, and he said, “Sweetheart, it’s way too early to be looking that worried.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just that, even though it might feel that way, the weight of the world really isn’t on your shoulders.”

Easy for him to say. Yes, he was definitely someone Connor confided in, but Lucas held no formal role in his clan, didn’t have the pressure of generations of tradition bearing down on him.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said reluctantly, more because she didn’t want to quarrel with him first thing than because she believed what she was saying. “I think I just need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” he asked, eyes glinting.

There was an idea. But she’d already allowed sex to distract her more than she should, and she knew exactly what would happen if she got into a shower with Lucas Wilcox. “How about next time?”

Thank the Goddess, he didn’t look all that disappointed. “I’ll definitely take a rain check on that one.”

Because all her toiletries and fresh clothes were still in the guest bedroom, she went there to shower. Any hoped-for illumination didn’t materialize between the shampoo and conditioner, and when she got out to towel off, she was just as conflicted as when she’d begun.

As if hoping that a text or voicemail would be the sign from the gods she needed, she went over to the dresser and inspected her phone. It still had a full charge, so the power must not have been out all that long. The phone was also completely devoid of any contact from her fellow elders, or from anyone at all, for that matter. She wished she could blame the communications blackout on connection issues caused by the storm, but she had four out of five bars here, meaning that anything someone sent her should have gotten through easily.