Hour of the Lion by Cherise Sinclair (reading a book txt) 📕

impatiently. "This." She pointed at the rippling ground. The back fourth of the cave held a small lake. "How deep is it?"

"Mmmmh, about three feet on this side. The far side...no one knows."

She shivered. "The way my life is going, there‘s some Loch Ness beast in there that eats people."

"Ah, now that would be interesting. But no, you‘ve probably seen most of the magical creatures." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Daonain, dwarves, various pixies. There‘s probably an undine or two living in here. But salamanders dislike the damp, and—"

"Where are we sleeping?" she interrupted hastily. Undines? Salamanders? God help me.

"Over there." He pointed to a tiny fireplace and two wooden bins, and then continued,

"Sylphs prefer the outdoors. There‘s no hellhounds or demons on the mountain. Not since—"

She punched his arm and bruised her knuckles on his rocklike deltoid. "If you‘re joking, stop."

"But—"

"If you‘re not joking, then definitely stop." She gave him a dirty look and headed across to the bins. Demons. If the world had demons in it, she didn‘t want to know.

Just like at the cabin, one bin held food and the other blankets. Tossing bedding on the ground, she kicked them into a pile. Then rethought and divided them. She realized she was sweating. "Calum?"

He walked over, glanced at the separate beds a fair distance apart, and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"It‘s hot in here. Is that my imagination or some creepy shifter thing?"

"Neither." His smile flickered. "The lake is fed by a hot spring. Would you care to bathe?"

"Are you serious? Really?"

His dark, rough laugh echoed as he motioned to the water. "Indeed. The shallower end is cool. Go deeper for hotter water."

She felt so dirty. She‘d been filthy before, especially in the desert countries with sand everywhere and in everything and bathing was more of a mudbath. But God, she wanted a bath right now.

He must have seen her answer in her expression. Stepping closer, he tucked a finger under her chin and studied her face. "You look better, less on edge."

"It took a while for everything to sink in." She curled her fingers around his hand, met his gaze. "Is that why you stayed so quiet on the hike here?"

"Aye." He kissed her fingers. "The silence of the mountains serves me well when I am troubled. I hoped the peace would help you also."

He‘d made her a gift of quiet understanding with no attempts at persuasion or arguing.

Damn, why did she have to like him so much? She managed to smile at him. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. Of course, not being Alec, remaining silent wasn‘t a great hardship."

Brushing her hands aside, he unzipped her jacket.

"Calum, I‘m not a kid."

He tilted his head. "No, you are not. Even so, there are times you will allow another to care for you, cariad. This is such a time."

That sounded wrong, and still sent a wave of warmth through her. "I can manage by myself."

"I think there has been too much of that in your life," he said. When she frowned at him, he smiled. "Go. Enjoy your bath."

"I will." The jacket dropped. She unlaced her shoes and pulled them off. Halfway to the water, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake, she got down to her tank top and briefs and stopped. Oops. She turned.

Calum was leaning against the cave wall, watching her, and smiling a little.

"Um." What could she say? Turn your back? Go outside into the cold?

"I‘ll join you in a while." He paused, lifted that damned eyebrow. "Will it worry you if I indulge also?"

"Um. Fine." Maybe stay in her underwear? But they were damp and crusty with sweat. Hell, considering how incredibly male he was, he‘d undoubtedly seen naked women before. She went to the opposite side of the cave, finished stripping, and walked in. It was like entering a hot tub.

As the heat penetrated her skin, reaching deep into her, she let out a moan of joy.

Ergh, that had sounded way too provocative. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still leaning against the wall. Fine. At least over here, with only the candlelight, he wouldn‘t see much.

She was magnificent.

As she rose out of the hot water into the cooler air, the candlelight glowed off her wet skin, highlighting each curve and shadowing like an artist‘s brush between her legs. Her chest muscles formed a lovely base for high, full breasts, the nipples pebbling. Her hair was a dark waterfall, spilling down to her sweetly rounded butt. He smiled—she didn‘t realize how well a shifter saw in darkness.

Using hard-earned control, he kept himself from getting erect. The disruptions in her life might have changed her interest in him. If his attentions no longer aroused her, he‘d know by her scent, by her movements. And that would be that.

But if she remained interested, sex served as a quick way to remove barriers. A way to learn to trust. Victoria didn‘t let people close. She kept herself contained, rarely showing any emotion except anger. Jamie had shown him the little human had a tender heart, but why so well hidden?

If she decided to stay with them, she needed to trust in order to survive her first trawsfur.

And, he admitted to himself, he wanted her trust for other reasons. Before this, she had desired him, welcomed his hands on her…his will over hers.

He stripped and went to the side of the cave near her. Ignoring how she dropped down into the water as he approached, he strolled past and to the wall. A tin container in a hollowed-out shelf contained soap. He sniffed each ball to pick one that suited her. Not that it would cover up her own scent—one that made him want to growl and purr at the same time. By Herne, he wanted to take her, make her come, and bury himself deep inside her.

Why does he have to so fuckingly virile? Vic watched him getting something by the cave wall, standing under one of the candles he‘d lit. She tried to