Heart Of Atlantis

above her, careful not to press her down or make her feel trapped.
    “You said you love me,” he told her. “Say it again.”
    Her eyes widened. “Oh, I said . . . No, I meant—”
    “Do not. Do not begin to pretend that you don’t love me,
aknasha
,” he whispered. “I have seen inside your heart, remember? When all of Atlantis might be destroyed in the next forty-eight hours, do not deprive me of the truth of your feelings during this brief moment before duty calls me away from you.”
    She suddenly shoved him, hard, and he fell over next to her. She rolled over to face him, and her expression was far too serious. Or maybe not serious enough. Alaric found himself wishing he could take back his impulsive words.
    “I do love you,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to admit it, because if ever there were a textbook version of a doomed relationship, we’re pretty much it. But I can’t help myself, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I’ve seen inside your heart, too, remember? And there you were, shining in the darkness. Honor, courage, duty, and a heaping helping of iron will. How could I not love you?”
    He rolled onto his back and shouted a wordless cry of triumph to the world, and then he paused and looked at her. “And?”
    “And what?”
    “And world-bending kisses,” he said, and he pulled her on top of his chest. “Let me demonstrate.”
    So he did. He kissed her until he no longer knew where they were or what their names were. There was no Alaric; no Quinn. Only the passion that burned so brightly between them he could hardly countenance that it did not set the room on fire. The silken feel of her lips against his breathed hope and laughter into his soul, and hunger turned to an emotion far deeper—far more powerful—far more life-sustaining.
    Fire and warmth and
home
. She was and forever would be home to him, no matter what foes or battles he faced. The realization blazed through him like the summer sun breaking through the clouds after a tropical thunderstorm, and the kind of peace he’d never known suffused his mind, his heart, and his soul.
    His body hardened past the point of endurance, until need and hunger drove him toward madness. He had to touch her—touch her
now
—touch her everywhere. He stroked the silky skin of her arms and shoulders, and even dared to press kisses along the elegant line of her collarbone. She was so thin—too thin—but far more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known.
    More beautiful than any woman in the history of the world.
    He abruptly stopped kissing her when a concern surfaced. “You need food.”
    “No, I had room service, remember?” She pulled his head back to kiss him some more and then she raised her head. “Do you need food?”
    “I’m interested in dessert. You,” he said, his voice straining to sound even a little calm. “Quinn, I think we have to make a decision right now, because I’m going to tear your clothes off in approximately seven seconds if we keep this up.”
    She grinned. “Oh, are we keeping you up?”
    She put her hand on his erection, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
    “I cannot believe you did that,” he said, trying not to go off in his pants like an untried youngling. Or, more to the point, like a man who had been celibate for most of his five centuries of existence.
    “I don’t actually believe it, either,” she said, looking a little stunned.
    “Five seconds,” he ground out. “Four, three—”
    “Wait!” She jumped up and off the bed and backed away, panic written on her delicate features. “Nothing has changed. You can’t—we can’t—”
    “Apparently I can,” he said dryly, adjusting his pants to try to find a comfortable fit.
    “But Poseidon—”
    “He can get his own woman.”
    Alaric climbed off the bed and started stalking her across the room, step by step.
    “We can’t,” she blurted out. “Not with Atlantis hanging in the balance.”
    Maddeningly, that was the ultimate truth. No matter how hard he’d tried not to think about it, just for these few stolen moments, everyone in his world depended upon him. He had to find Poseidon’s Pride and return to Atlantis, no matter how tempting this interlude with Quinn had been.
    It was as if the cold light of reality had suddenly pierced through the web of self-delusion he’d been hiding in for the past hour or so. His exhilaration at finding Quinn had left him stupid—almost punch-drunk—and now he must face his