“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “I care.” Her stomach growled from hunger, and in the quiet of the cave, the sound echoed loudly. She blushed. “Do you?”


“More than I can say.”


“I just…don’t want you to be hurt if I leave.”


“You won’t leave. Now, come.” He stood and waved his fingers. “I’ll feed you.”


He cared! And how could he be so certain she would remain? “What time is it?” she asked, accepting his aid with a tender smile. A smile that quickly fled. Her bones creaked and ached as she straightened.


“Close to midnight.”


Back home, she would have been in her bed right now, tossing and turning and dreading the coming morning.


They made their way back to the river. Limping at first, but muscles relaxing with the exercise, she gathered mint leaves and twigs, and they brushed their teeth as they walked. Afterward, Nicolai foraged for fruits and nuts to tide her over. As she nibbled, she kind of expected creatures from childhood storybooks to jump out and grab her, or Laila to scream a curse and appear, but no. The thirty-minute journey was incident free.


Nicolai stepped into the water, dipped all the way in, came up wet and sputtering and motioned for her to do the same. “Bathe, and I’ll gather the fish you scare away.”


“Ha, ha. Shows what you know. Fish adore me. Don’t be surprised if they dance at my feet.”


“Are you trying to make me kill the fish in a jealous rage so you can have more to eat?” he teased.


“Maybe.” More than gorgeous, he was sexy. Amused, playful, all that wet dark hair plastered to his scalp and dripping down his face, crystalline droplets scorching a path down his mouthwatering pectorals, the ropes of his stomach—and, sweet heaven, there were a lot of ropes—and finally catching in the waist of his loincloth.


Without the taint of the cave, there was nothing to dilute her need. Jane hungered for her man more than anything else.


You’ve gotta clean up if you want to get dirty with him.


“Prepare to be awed,” he said, giving her his back.


I already am. She removed her new robe and jumped into the water—such cool, refreshing water—before he could turn and see her beaded nipples. She scrubbed up until her skin tingled. Well, tingled from more than desire.


All the while, she snuck secret glances at Nicolai. He caught several fish and tossed them ashore. As time ticked by, he became more and more apprehensive, his motions clipped. And he was utterly oblivious to her stare. Not once did he glance back at her.


Moonlight spotlighted him, golden and magical. He was so strong, so capable. She chewed her bottom lip as she treaded water. The water might be cool, but the liquid between her legs was warm.


Perhaps she should have been scared or experienced post-traumatic stress symptoms. Flashbacks at the very least. After all, she’d nearly been raped and had been beaten. But this was Nicolai. Her protector. Not even bad memories would dare attack her while he was nearby.


“Nicolai,” she said, a husky note in her voice. She hadn’t meant to call him, but his name had emerged unbidden, unstoppable.


Finally he turned to her. Her breath caught. His eyes were brighter than she’d ever seen them, the gold flecks out to play, mingling seductively with the silver. His cheeks were flushed, his fangs long and sharp.


“Awed yet?” he demanded.


“Yes.” Oh, yes. Was that why he was so distressed and distant? She hadn’t properly praised his skills? “You’re the best fisherman I’ve ever met. Granted, you’re the only one I’ve ever met, but…”


No hint of a smile. “I’ll feed you,” he said, adding darkly, “After.”


“After?”


“I smell your desire for me, little Jane, and I gave you time to grow used to the idea of being with me. Time is up. Come here.” He crooked his finger. “I want you.”


After wasn’t such a bad word anymore. “About time.” She didn’t hesitate. She swam the distance, the water caressing her skin. When she was only a whisper away, she let her feet drop to the bottom and stood. The waterline reached just under her breasts.


“I’m going to have you,” he said fiercely.


“Yes.”


“All of you.”


“Yes.” Please.


He stepped closer. Every time they inhaled, their chests rubbed together, creating the most dizzying friction.


“Nothing will stop me,” he said.


“Not even thoughts of another woman waiting for you?” She hated herself the moment the words left her, but she was still glad they had. Another woman was the reason he had resisted her before.


Shadows couched his features, turning him into the warrior of the night before. “There…is. A woman. Most likely.”


Oh, God. “Who?” A plug was lifted, and the desire drained from her, leaving her cold, hollow. “Do you…did you love her?”


“No. My father arranged the marriage. I do not remember my intended’s face or her name, or even my proposal. I know only that I promised my father I would wed her.”


Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. At least his heart did not belong to someone else. That should help.


That didn’t help. She wanted all of him. For herself.


“You’re remembering?” she croaked.


“Not everything, only bits and pieces at a time. I tell you this, not to upset you, Jane, but to warn you. No matter what happens, I’m keeping you. You are mine. That will not change.”


No matter what happens—as in, if he had to marry another woman. “No.”


The possibility of his involvement with another had been so easy to dismiss before. And she could very easily dismiss it now, when it was a reality. If he had decided to end the engagement.


She wouldn’t be the other woman. She wouldn’t! She had too much pride. Didn’t she? Oh, God. The fact that she’d even asked meant she already wanted to consider the option.


No. No, no, no. Her parents had loved each other, respected each other, and that’s what she wanted for herself. A deep, abiding love that placed her first. She didn’t want to spend her nights wondering if her man was in bed with his wife, giving her pleasure and babies. She didn’t want to find herself regulated to the fringes of his life. She didn’t want to be the one everyone blamed for their troubles.


She deserved better.


When she returned home and thought back on her time here—she knew she couldn’t stay now, because somehow, some way, she would find a path home—this was the night that would haunt her. Not those pain-filled hours with the ogres. Not even the humiliation of her whipping. This hurt the most.


She backed away from him. Not allowing the retreat, he reached out and gripped her shoulders, tugging her back to him. Closer this time, until not even a whisper separated them. They were flush against each other, his erection smashed against her belly.


“I know what you’re thinking, Jane.”


“What, you’re a mind reader as well as an engaged man?” She threw the words like weapons, needing to lash out even in the smallest way.


“No, but I know you. You are not leaving me.” The command didn’t come from the tender savior who had held her while she’d slept, but from the dangerous predator who had removed a man’s limbs just to hear him scream. “I told you these things, not to worry you, but to reassure you. Betrothals can be broken. And mine will be. I will have you, and no other.”


“I—I—” Was that a declaration? A proposal? Her emotions ran the gamut, and her mind didn’t know whether to release the despair and accept the sudden tide of joy, or wallow in both. “I know you said I wouldn’t, but what if I do, in fact, leave your world? You would…” Die. She shouldn’t know that, couldn’t yet admit that she did, but then, he hadn’t asked her to forever mate with him, had he?


If he did, mating could very well tie her to this world forever. Her eyes widened. Was that how he knew she would stay?


“You will not leave,” he said. “I will make sure of it, whatever I have to do. Now, we finish this, Jane. Here. Now.” He didn’t wait for her reply, but swooped down, thrusting his tongue deep inside her mouth. Joy won.


She couldn’t help herself. She welcomed him. He still tasted of mint, warm, wet mint, and she couldn’t get enough. And when he tilted her head, taking more, sampling deeper, her nerve endings erupted with sensation. This was what a kiss was meant to be, a possession, a claiming. An awakening of every sense.


Her hands wound around his neck, her fingers sinking into his hair. Later. She’d ask him what he’d meant by “whatever I have to do” later. Right now, she had the most important fact. He wasn’t pledging himself to someone else. Here, now, she would enjoy him.


They stood like that, kissing and rubbing against each other forever. And every second of that forever ramped up her desire, until she was trembling, needy, aching with a fever only he could assuage.


“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded harshly.


“Yes.” Even the thought left her reeling. She jumped up and did as commanded, expecting him to possess her in the next instant. He didn’t enter her, though. No, he carried her to the shore, his hard length sliding against her. She moaned as he laid her down and stretched out on top of her. Still he didn’t enter her.


“Don’t stop,” she breathed.


“I won’t.” He placed his hands beside her temples, removed his loincloth and anchored his weight.


“So lovely, my female.”


“Prove it. Prove that I’m yours.”


His lips peeled back from his fangs. “When I’m done, you might regret such a request.”


“Promises, promises.”


Once again, he defied her expectations. He didn’t go in for the kill, didn’t deliver instant relief to her raging desires. Instead, he spent the next few minutes kneading her breasts and laving her nipples, his fingers tracing erotic patterns on her stomach, but he never quite reached where she needed him most.