“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“About Rudyard Kipling.”
Her hand froze. “Are you serious?”
“What, you don’t think I’m capable of poetry after sex?”
That made her laugh. “Adrian, I learned a long time ago that you’re capable of anything. I just would’ve expected Keats or Shakespeare.”
“I like the book of poems you got me. They’re short, and the crazier ones sort of speak to me.” I rolled to my back, throwing an arm over my head and gazing up at the gauzy canopy. “I was thinking about ‘The Female of the Species.’”
“Okay, I really didn’t expect that.”
“It’s not about cruel women, even though it sounds like it.”
“I know.” Of course she did.
“‘She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail, That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.’” I closed my eyes for a moment, adrift on love and exhaustion and bodily bliss. “We’re suckers for this, Sydney. Men. You’ve got me completely helpless right now. You’re so beautiful and alluring, and we guys can’t help ourselves. We fight wars for you, cajole you . . . and you put up with us. We have it easy here in bed.”
She turned my face toward hers. “This wasn’t exactly difficult for me.”
“But we still have it easy. You’re the strength, the pillars . . . our defenders, our children’s defenders.”
“You’re selling yourself short,” she said. “You’re just as strong. I wouldn’t be with you otherwise. We’re equals in this, in whatever comes.”
I didn’t feel equal. I still had that dizzying sense that she was some goddess come to earth whom I wasn’t worthy of. At the same time, I didn’t want to depend solely on her strength or use it to hold my life together. I didn’t want a mother—well, not for me. I wanted a partnership, a union just like we’d had, except spreading to every part of our lives. We would march forward, hand and hand, and I would spend the rest of my days making our love greater and greater.
“I’m messing this up,” I told her. “I should’ve stuck to Keats.”
“No, it’s nice to know that pensive, metaphysical Adrian is still around.”
“He’s hard to get rid of, even with pills.”
Her expression softened. “Is it terrible? Being cut off from spirit’s high?”
“No, because being with you is a greater high than spirit, drinking, or anything else could ever conjure.”
Her eyes glistened, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. “You didn’t mess it up—the Kipling. I know what you meant. And I hope you know I feel exactly the same way about you. I feel weak around you. But strong at the same time.”
I had no more doubts about being worthy. We were each other’s strength but still possessed our own. I sighed and gathered her to me. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express enough how much I love you.”
“Well,” she said, with a heated look I knew well, “you can certainly try.”
So, I did, for a lot of the night. And as we’d often pointed out, she was a quick study.
I woke in the morning, happier than I’d been in a long time, and saw she was standing at the window in nothing but my T-shirt. It was so mind-blowingly sexy that all coherent thought stopped for a moment. Finally, I managed to drag myself up. I walked over to join her, standing behind her and wrapping my arms around her. She leaned into me.
“Look at it out there,” she breathed.
I only wanted to look at her, but I lifted my gaze to the window. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Fences, cars, anything else . . . it was all hidden. The tree branches were coated in ice. Pale winter sunlight shone down on it all, turning everything into a glittering array.
“It’s unreal,” she said. “Like everything’s been carved out of diamonds. It’s hard to believe the world can ever go back to normal after this.”
I tightened my hold on her. “I know,” I said. “I know.”
CHAPTER 18
SYDNEY
IT TOOK TWO DAYS FOR THE ROADS to get cleared and for our transportation to be figured out. Both the Alchemists and the Moroi told us not to worry about the follow-up on the rental and that we’d just get a new one since we couldn’t wait out the time for a body repair. I told them I wouldn’t feel right about abandoning the original car, since it was my fault it was wrecked, so I managed to drag out our stay while the shop sorted out the many vehicles it had retrieved that night. We were invited back to Court, but I also fought against that, telling the Alchemists I felt better in a human-run inn. Naturally, they backed me.
Those two days were spent in a dream. Adrian and I might as well have been on our honeymoon. We saw Neil for breakfast, but he otherwise kept to himself in his room, leaving us to our own activities.
It wasn’t all sex. Just mostly.
Adrian teased me that I was making up for lost time. Maybe I was, but I didn’t think so because I honestly couldn’t imagine having done it with anyone before him. There was nothing to make up for. I also couldn’t imagine how one-night stands or any sort of emotionless sex worked. I knew people did it all the time, but it seemed like such a waste. With Adrian, every touch . . . every action between us . . . well, it was all enhanced by our love. How did people have sex without that? That was a question I had no interest in exploring.
Even when not having sex, we spent a lot of time in bed. I’d read or work on my laptop. He’d watch TV or sleep. He claimed I was exhausting, though he certainly never seemed to lack for energy during the act. As for me, I actually found sex invigorating. I was wired afterward. I felt like I could take on a hundred projects. I wanted to eat.
Reality finally called, however, and we had to return to our responsibilities in Palm Springs. Too many people needed us. Unlike that tension-filled flight to Pennsylvania, our trip home was filled with contentment. It was a six-hour afterglow. Adrian and I sat next to each other, burning with the bond between us, and even if we wanted to touch, we didn’t need to.
When we stepped outside the Palm Springs airport, warm desert air hit us, confirming once and for all that our winter paradise was gone. And within hours, I found myself slipping back into my former role. I was no longer the storm-tossed heroine lost in her lover’s arms. I was Sydney Sage, Alchemist and caretaker, and I was back in business.
Adrian had to go back to his place and find out what he’d missed at Carlton, leaving Neil and me to return to Amberwood. Neil was quiet in the taxi, and I was finally able to give him my full attention. During our snowy interlude, I’d been far too distracted by Adrian and had written off Neil’s solitude as some personality quirk. Now, I could tell there was something troubling him.
“Everything okay?”
He dragged his gaze from the window. “Yeah, just thinking about a lot of stuff.”
“Olive?”
“Sometimes.” He started to smile, but it faltered. “Among other things.”
A panicked thought hit me. “Do you feel okay? You’re not having any side effects?”
“No. I’ve just got a lot to think about.” This time he did smile. “Don’t worry. You’ve already got plenty to keep you busy.”
For a moment, I wondered if he knew about Adrian. Was that why he was so pensive? He didn’t know what to do about us? But no, that was my own selfishness. My romantic escapade with Adrian had been the biggest thing in my life back there, but Neil had barely known we were in the inn with him. He had his own concerns, and after everything he’d been through, I could understand.