"I came here to atone, Star. Instead of punishment, you would offer me a dream?"
"I believe in second chances, Centauri. That said, I don't go in for third or fourth chances so make the most of it."
There was another long moment of silence. He laughed, a deep rich chuckle.
"Princess, I have done many things in my life but I have never broken oath. I concede to you the choice, even the choice of new challenges if it pleases you."
Relief washed over her, making her dizzy. Her heart swelled in her chest making it hard to breathe.
"No, I think I'll stick with the ones I gave you first. After all, it wouldn't be very fair of me to issue new challenges when you've already succeeded in completing two of the three."
She had finally figured out what the third challenge had been. It hadn't even been that difficult to figure out since it wasn't like she'd said that much to him before issuing the challenges. He had to make her want to marry him. All he had to do was ask, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
He curled an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and Star leaned into him. He was warm, a comfortingly solid presence. She hid her smile in his shirt.
He pressed a kiss into her hair. “I don't deserve this chance, Princess. You humble me."
"Remember that.” She snuggled closer and laughed softly. “Centauri? Since you're in such a giving mood, does this mean I get to practice on you?"
"Practice?"
Star reached for the air around them. She'd been practicing. It had seemed like such a waste to have a useful gift and not use it. Now, new possibilities whispered and tempted.
She gathered the air and sent it stroking up his legs, caressing his thighs and then higher. He hissed and his grip tightened, but he didn't try to stop her. Emboldened, Star warmed the air, wrapping it like a fist around his growing arousal.
"You are going to drive me crazy, aren't you?” He didn't seem terribly upset by the thought. He shifted his hips against her, a soft groan rumbling in his throat.
Power was such a heady thing. Star laughed and stroked him again. Darker and rich, his magic rose, stroking over her and igniting heat in belly. Like heated fingers, caressing her, inside and out. Star gasped and lost her grip on the air. He stroked her again and she felt her knees give way.
"Which two?” he murmured into her throat, keeping up the invisible caresses.
"What?"
"Which two have challenges have I completed?"
Star groped for a coherent thought. “Not telling,” she gasped as the heated fingers moved lower, drifting over her belly and thighs and then deeper into her core. She was going to scream if he didn't stop.
He kissed her, swallowing her soft, mewling cries as he sent her higher and higher. Star could only cling to him as the pleasure broke over her in waves, pulsing like star fire through her body.
She sagged against him as he let the magic fade away. She'd just ... On a street ... In full view ... God, he was addictive.
"Don't tell me,” he whispered. “It doesn't matter. I will win you if it takes me centuries."
"You promise?"
"I promise.” He pulled back to smile down at her, the wonder dazzling in his eyes mingled with heated longing.
"I'm going to hold you to that, you know?"
"I certainly hope so.” He kissed her again, lightly this time, a savoring taste. “Now, take me home, Princess, so I can finish what we've started here."
"Finish?"
His smile turned devilish. “Oh, yes, Princess. I'm not nearly finished with you yet."
Dear God. She wasn't going to survive this.
"I would but I don't think I can walk."
He laughed then, swinging her around. Setting her back on her feet, he kissed her soundly.
"I love you, Star,” he murmured against her lips. “I truly do love you."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Damien let himself into his studio, letting the door fall closed with a clang behind him and aimed his keys at the chipped coffee mug on the nearest table. He missed.
It had been a long night. A good one overall, but long. He was drained. The gallery people had been very pleased with the turn out. The buyers had been free with their money. The critics had even seemed pleased for the most part though the truth of that would be found in the morning's paper.
Star had seemed please with his painting of her. He'd first sketched her when she had fallen asleep on the futon months ago, a trusting angel in denim. The rest had come to him as he'd worked, snippets of detail so clear he could practically touch them. Tonight, he had watched her pick out those details, the forms he'd spent so many hours perfecting. Then she'd seen the Centaur.
He wasn't sure why he'd included the Centaur. It had simply seemed to work its way into the shadows under his brush, taking life and form with every stroke. He'd seen her spot it and he'd known he lost her.
He snorted, shrugged out of his jacket, dropping it over a stool, and jerked off his tie. He'd never had her to lose her. They'd been friends. Nothing more.
He picked up a brush from the table, letting it spin between his fingers. He didn't feel like painting tonight. He didn't feel like doing much of anything.
Pine. Ash. Aspen groves shivering in the breeze.
The scent caught him, making him think of spring rains and gilded leaves. He lifted his head, frowning. Someone was here.
A sharp sting in his left butt cheek brought him off the chair with a yelp. His searching fingers found a slender shaft embedded in his flesh and he pulled it free as he turned.
She stood on the stairs, an artist's wet dream done in shades of gold, russet and brown. Her waist length hair glimmered gold with touched with crimson fire. She was dressed in slim fitting leathers and her almond shaped eyes were narrowed as she raised her bow again and took aim.
Damien jerked aside. Too late. Another dart lodged in his thigh. He yanked it free with a curse. He'd be damned if he'd sit there and let her turn him into a pincushion.
He rolled, coming to his feet in a lithe move. Moving fast, he went for the stairs, intent on taking her down.
She saw him coming and vaulted the railing to land cat-like in a fighter's crouch on the floor of the studio.
But Damien had his own share of cat in him. He dove over the railing and took her down in a flying leap. Her bow clattered across the floor, out of reach now. They rolled, each battling for the upper hand. A stool went down with a crash and Damien cursed as they hit a workbench.
He tangled her legs with his, pinning her with his weight. It was a struggle but he managed to catch her wrists, pinning them over her head. Damn, but she was strong, all lithe muscle and sleek grace.
Her eyes were green. He stared down at her, momentarily arrested by the sight. The cool, misty color was at odds with her fiery coloring. It reminded him of a fairy glade on a summer day.
Nausea washed over him in a wave, tunneling his vision. He fought back the grayness but it was a losing battle. His vision narrowed until the world vanished altogether.
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About the Author
I have been writing for fifteen years and my love of fantasy and romance have finally mingled beyond redemption. After living in all four corners of the US and even two years in Europe, I still believe in true love and happily ever after—they just require work. I currently live in rural North Dakota with my husband, two kids and four dogs.
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Visit www.mysticmoonpress.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
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