Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

shoulder, her eyes dazed and unfocused, and he decided to delay the choice. The time wasn’t right—he’d once thought the time would never be right—for the soul-meld. He used every ounce of focus and discipline he’d ever learned to shut the doorway to his soul. To keep her own at bay.
    The icy chill of loss swept through him, and he wondered if the miraculous gift of the soul-meld, once offered and rejected, would ever be offered again. But Fiona lifted her lips to his and he sought refuge in her warmth and her passion, and he achieved his release as she cried out her own climax. When he finally released her, they quickly finished their shower, dried in huge towels, and he carried her to bed, pulling her into his arms and tucking the coverlets around them.
    He closed his eyes and concentrated, setting magical wards around the room so none could enter it without his admittance, and then he kissed her.
    “Rest now, beautiful one. Tomorrow we will figure this all out.” He kissed her again, and then, wrapped around her warm, still-trembling body, he watched her for a very long time, until she fell into a troubled sleep. When her steady breathing finally told him she’d succumbed to her exhaustion, he lay there, content simply to hold her, until dawn brushed its golden fingers against her windows. Then, at last, he, too, fell asleep.
    Fiona woke up enveloped in warmth and the sensation of perfect safety for the first time since she’d taken up the role of the Scarlet Ninja. She blinked, disoriented by the large, muscular arm resting across her naked breasts, and then memory flooded back and her face and other, more intimate, parts of her warmed. Christophe. The shower. The way she’d practically begged him to make love to her.
    Well. They were beyond petty embarrassments now. She was not a girl on a blind date. She was a grown woman. He was most definitely all man. Together, they’d battled vampires and survived. Anyway, he’d been more than willing.
    “The thoughts running through your mind must be fascinating, if the expressions crossing your face in such rapid succession are anything to judge by,” he said. His voice was a rumble in his chest against her side and made her want to rub her face against him like a kitten.
    “I was thinking about last night. The vampires. And the shower, and the museum, to be honest,” she confessed, her cheeks flaming again. Evidently whatever caused her to blush had not yet caught on that she was a grown woman.
    “Ah, yes, the museum. One of my favorite memories of all time,” he said, chuckling. “And yet waking up here with you counts as its equal.”
    She turned to look into his eyes. “Why? You must have woken up with many women before.” She didn’t want to think about it, but she had to face facts, especially if he really had seen more than three hundred birthdays. Even one or two encounters a year and that added up to . . . insanity.
    She couldn’t think about that now or her brain would catch fire.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 100 of 188
    “Never, in fact.” He pulled her even closer and kissed her nose. “I don’t sleep with women.”
    “Right. So you’re a monk?”
    “I have had sexual encounters, but I have never slept with a woman before this night. I’ve never met a woman I trusted enough to let down my guard that much.” Sincerity and something else was in his gaze.
    A little embarrassment of his own, maybe?
    She stared at him, fascinated. “Never? In all those years?”
    “Never.”
    “I—I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “I feel honored.”
    “You’re the one who honors me, Princess,” he said solemnly, but then a wickedly evil grin lit up his face.
    “If you want to honor me again, right now, you can climb on top of me and—”
    “I get it, I get it.” She leaned in to kiss him and took her time about it. When she pulled back, she took a deep, shaky breath. “You do amazing things to me, Mr. Atlantean warrior.”
    “Wait. Sean!” She pushed away from him and sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. “I can’t believe I haven’t checked in on Sean.”
    “He is doing well,” Christophe said. “I have already communicated with Denal. Sean’s wound has begun to heal, perhaps due to the liberal application of blessed water so quickly applied.”
    She leaned back against the pillows. “That’s good. I guess I can wait a bit to check on him in person.”
    “He, Denal, and Declan