She stared up at the sky, now dusky with both the oncoming evening and the red haze that grew darker and more intense as they neared the battlefield.
He smiled at her. “It was pretty damned good, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, yes,” she said on a sigh. “There’s only one thing that could make me happier . . .”
He sat up and stared down at where she lay. “Woman,” he said in his sternest voice, “I have pleasured you as I have pleasured no other woman, almost to the point of my demise. You yourself state that you are even now experiencing aftershocks. You do not aftershock if the experience is in any way less than absolute perfection. Therefore, there is nothing that could make you happier, and I will thank you to retract your complaint about my performance!”
“It wasn’t a complaint—” she started to say, but he would brook no objection.
“Slur, then. It was a slur upon my manhood.”
She lifted the sheet and looked under it. “Goddess! I didn’t realize you were that large. Even all tuckered out you’re . . . wow. Gregory, I can say in all honesty that I have no slur to make against your manhood. The only thing that would make me happier is if you’d feed me. I’m exhausted with all the aftershocks, and so hungry I could eat Bottom. Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.”
“Please imagine that I am even now making a risqué play on words concerning your bottom,” he said, mollified enough that he offered her a plate of food.
“Done. Oooh, is that a crab quiche?”
“Apparently so. And this appears to be some sort of rolls stuffed with various meats. Grapes?”
They dined happily, although Gwen insisted that they put on clothing just in case someone strolled past them.
“How are you going to steal the things that Aaron wants you to steal?” Gwen asked him some time later as they lay snuggled together, watching the stars overhead emerge from the velvety darkness to twinkle down on them.
Gregory had never been one to see the romance of the night sky—so far as he was concerned, it was simply a moon and light reflected from astral bodies too far away for him to easily understand. And yet at that moment, with Gwen warm in his arms, the softness of her body pressed against his, he could have sworn that the arrangement of stars and moon was created just for them.
“Gregory?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you thinking about sex?”
He blinked at the stars, then looked down at the top of her head where it lay on his chest. One of her hands rested on his breastbone, not stroking him, just lying there. It felt right. “I wasn’t until you asked that, but now I am.”
She laughed, pressing a kiss into his chest. “Then what were you thinking about that was so consuming you couldn’t answer my perfectly reasonable question?”
“I was considering whether or not I should attempt to write a poem to just how beautiful you are lying naked under the stars. Now I shall have to change that to an ode on making love to you.”
“I don’t think my heart could stand it,” she said lightly.
He froze, wondering if she had, unbeknownst to him, abilities to read his thoughts. Did she sense the warm feelings that had been growing with each hour of her acquaintance? He’d been careful to not acknowledge them, even to himself, lest he hurt either or both of them. He hadn’t ever been one to give his heart easily, and he knew with the knowledge born of man that in Gwen he’d found a woman who could destroy him should she so desire.
No, it was far better to keep things unemotional. Lust was fine. Sexual appreciation was appropriate. Desire was welcomed. But anything else . . . no. It was better this way.
She lifted her head and grinned at him, at the same time tweaking his nipple. “You’re not the only one who almost croaked because the sex was so good. So, how are you going to steal the stuff?”
He relaxed. She wasn’t making a declaration of his emotions after all. “I don’t know. I’ve never stolen anything before. I guess I’ll check out the camp and locate the items first, then make a plan.”
“My moms are there. I’ll have a chat with them and see if they can help. I’m sure they would. I think they’ll like you.” He felt inordinately pleased until she added, “They always cotton to the most inappropriate people. I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve had to separate them from bad influences.”
He pinched her ass. “That is no way to talk about a master thief, madam. Go to sleep. You’re going to need your strength.”
She sighed heavily into his chest and snuggled closer. “Yes, I know. I have that stupid armor to wear, and when we get to the camp Doug will probably make me fight right away.”
“I was referring to the method by which I am intending to awaken you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. He’d never felt so happy in all his life. He had Gwen, and that was all he wanted.
On the heels of that thought came another one, much more disquieting. . . . How on earth was he going to keep her?
TEN
“Who the hell are you?”
“Good gravy, it’s a naked man!”
“Penny, where’s the camera? I must get a picture of him. Here, you take a picture of me standing next to him. It’ll make quite the blog post, won’t it?”
“Hey, little boy. Daddy wants some of that sugar.”
“I don’t know who you people are, or why you’ve intruded upon my privacy, but I do not intend to allow you either to photograph me or to engage in acts of sugar. Go away, all of you, before I take my woman’s sword and—”
“Now then, now then, let’s be ’avin’ none of that.”
It was the voices that woke me, and not, unfortunately, Gregory with amorous thoughts on his mind.
“Dammit, there is a woman there. She’s wadded up in the blankets. Crap.”
I sat up, blinking and shoving my hair out of my eyes with one hand while clutching the sheet to my naked breasts with the other. The sight that met me was less than thrilling.
Gregory was also naked, his hands on his hips as he stood facing a semicircle of four people—two women and two men, one of whom bore a familiar face.
“Hello, Al,” I said, holding the sheet tighter to myself. “Don’t tell me—this is another tour group?”
“Early-mornin’ Ramblers Tour,” he said with a nod and a grin. “For those mortals what like to keep fit and see the sights normal tourists don’t see.”
“Go away,” Gregory repeated. “We are not a sight.”
“I don’t know,” said one of the women, a slight, mousy-looking girl in a dowdy gray skirt and sweater. She held a camera in her hands and snapped a quick shot of him. “You look pretty good to me.”
“Penny!” the woman next to her shrieked and punched her in the arm. She had bright red hair, a sharp little nose, and was dressed all in pink. “I’m the ballsy one! You can’t say things like that—it’s my shtick. You’re the good cop, I’m the bad cop, remember?”
“Sorry,” Penny apologized, and took another picture of Gregory. “I won’t do it again.”
“See that you don’t. Now, I’m going to stand next to him, and I want you to get several shots so that I can have some mugs and book bags and things made up. I think my blog readers will love that, don’t you?”
“Oh, for the love of . . . Here.” I tossed Gregory his pants, which I was gratified to see he pulled on immediately. Penny looked disappointed.
“Hey!” her pink friend said. “Here, you, take those pants off again. No one is going to want to buy my merchandise if you’re not full-frontal.”
“Yes,” the other man in the group said in a low, slow voice. The word came out almost as a hiss. His eyes were avid with enjoyment as his gaze crawled over Gregory. “Such a fine, fine specimen. Daddy likes.”