Stay in budget, the email warned. Or make sure you come in under, because this is all you get.
“We’re going to cover the whole rooftop,” she told Graydon, eyes sparkling with excitement. “There’s such a limited amount of space, we’ll have to plant every shrub and tree carefully, but that’s okay. The whole roof is going to turn into an oasis.”
“Even the helipad area?” he asked, eyebrows up.
“Yes. Helicopters can land perfectly fine on grass. Right now, all the avian Wyr do is launch and land up there anyway. Now people will be able to go up to the roof for picnics too, or to sleep out underneath the stars if they need. And every floor is going to get its own indoor garden. We’ll maximize every inch of space—there’ll be vertical gardens everywhere. We’ll plant ivy and cooking herbs that people can use if they want, and some will be flowering vines.” She drew in a deep breath. “This is still a skyscraper. It won’t be as wild as a Wood, but it’ll be so much more refreshing for everybody.”
He loved her passion. He adored her enthusiasm. He was so much in love with her, his body felt like it encased a city of light.
Resting his chin in his hands, he watched her face for hours and listened as she talked over her plans. He helped her pore over résumés as she hired her gardening staff. Some of them would be temporary, while others would become permanent positions. The indoor and rooftop gardens would require ongoing maintenance.
One night, as they curled up in bed, he asked, “I love how happy this has made you, but what are you going to do when you’re finished with the project?”
Her head rested on his chest, and he played with long strands of her hair. The need to keep touching her in some way was compulsive.
She was always welcoming, and responded with such pleasure, often their plans for the day flew out the window as they tumbled back into bed, and he was perpetually fifteen minutes late for work. Nobody minded. When he finally showed up, they greeted him with understanding smiles.
“I’ll find another project to work on,” she told him. She pressed her lips to his pectoral, eyes sparkling. “Maybe I’ll take over Central Park. I’ve always wanted to, you know.”
“Now, that would be big enough for a wild Wood.” He laughed. She was going to transform the city.
“Wouldn’t it just?” Her voice softened. “Besides, silly man, this project isn’t what has made me happy. You have. And Constantine has.”
Earlier that day, they had found out the baby’s sex. It felt a little awkward to start calling such a small entity by such a large name with so much emotional history, but with enough practice they would adjust, and he felt sure that Con would approve if he’d known.
And because of Constantine, their son was alive. There was no better way to honor his sacrifice.
Graydon was learning to be gentle with himself. With care and respect, he set aside those thoughts to concentrate on the wonderful miracle lying beside him.
Bel was entranced with lying in bed alongside Graydon and talking with him about the events in their days. The sensation of his long, powerful frame stretched out beside her, radiating heat like a great lazy hunting cat, preoccupied her utterly.
She couldn’t wait to go to bed each night. Yes, the sex was mind-blowing and addictive, exhilarating and exhausting. Yes, her body learned very quickly to hunger for the touch of his mouth, the caress of his fingers, the sensation of his powerful body moving over hers.
Yes, she ached to be filled with him. She needed to be with him so badly, being apart from him for more than a few hours at a time was unbearable.
Apparently he felt the same, for sometimes when she returned from errands, she could barely make it through the apartment door before he pinned her against the wall and tore her clothes off, taking her with an all-consuming hunger.
But every bit as important as the passion they shared was the fact that she loved simply being with him, basking in his vitality, rubbing her foot along the long muscled length of his legs as they talked, the crisp hairs tickling her toes.
Often, she woke out of a sound sleep just to roll over and stare in amazement at his shadowed, relaxed features.
She loved that he couldn’t stop touching her. Even as they laughed at the most ridiculous things, he stroked the curve of her shoulder, or danced his fingers along her hip. He would play with her hair, twining it around his hand, or caress the curve of her breasts.
In many different ways, he told her how much he cherished her. Gradually he branded the message into the patterns he drew on her skin, until it revolutionized how she viewed her world.
Now, as their conversation died away, he came up on one elbow and looked down at her. A shadow passed over his expression, a touch of grief and a yearning so strong, it ripped her apart inside. She never wanted him to be in pain. If she could, she would take all of it for him, just so that she could see him smile again.
Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against her breast. She cradled his head, pressing her mouth to his temple. He whispered, “I can’t be apart from you again.”
She understood what he meant. He had given his great, noble soul to her without reservation. He had mated with her.
“I can’t be apart from you, either,” she murmured softly. “You are everything I ever wanted, everything I could ever need. Gray, you’re my world.”
He lifted his head. The look in his eyes was vulnerable. “No regrets?”
An unamused laugh broke out of her. “Gods, yes. A ton of them. But they all revolve around reaching Ferion sooner, before Malphas had trapped him, so that you and I wouldn’t have had to be apart for so long.”
And maybe they wouldn’t have had to lose Constantine and Soren.
But that path of thought lay in the wrong direction. Asking what ifs was an insidious pastime, filled with useless pain.
The truth was, eventually, someone would have had to kill Malphas. Somehow, the cost would have been high. Maybe down another road, it would have been Graydon who had been killed.
Firmly, she turned away from that path, to focus on the wealth of what she truly had.
A small smile tugged at his lips. He nuzzled her with his nose. “We would have had that house outside of Charleston.”
She shook her head. “That was a pipe dream,” she told him. “Or, maybe it would have been a bridge until we got ourselves sorted out emotionally and did what had to be done. If we had ever truly experienced even a smallest part of that dream, I could never have returned to the same dwelling where Calondir lived, no matter how big it was or how separate we lived our lives.”
A hint of blade flashed in his eyes. “That’s good, because otherwise I would have had to kill him.”
“You say the sweetest things,” she crooned up at him. When he burst out laughing, she grinned.
As quickly as it started, his laughter died, and hunger took its place.
Oh, she recognized that look. She was beginning to have a physical reaction every time she saw it in his face.
Her heart began to pound, the muscles in her thighs trembled, and desire for him melted through her body in a liquid gush. They grew so sated every time they made love, yet somehow it only fueled the fire.
He bent his head and kissed her, his lips playing softly over hers in such a cherishing caress, tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She kissed him with everything she had, pouring all the love she felt for him through the sensitive barrier of her skin.
Her body was a love letter written just for him. As his fingers stroked along the curves of her breast, the peaks of her nipples tightened. She’d had no idea that she could feel so much pleasure.