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Rowan bared her teeth at him, which produced no discernible reaction but a faint smirk. As though he thought she was just being, well, predictable. How utterly offensive. The Dyadd were never predictable. Perhaps he needed to be taught that particular lesson.
"Apparently you've never heard of squatter's rights," she growled, pleased to be able to use one of the bizarre little terms she'd picked up during her time in the desert. The look on Gabriel's face as she shifted position to grip the part of the branch that lay between them was priceless. That was probably because of the flames that burst through her hands and burned almost instantly through the wood. Rowan felt a surge of triumph as Gabriel began to fall away.
That was, until he snatched her from her place in a blur of movement and crushed her against him to fall the short distance to the ground, rolling when they hit to protect her. Then rolling so she was pinned beneath him.
Oh my, she thought, eyes widening in shock as the full-length connection between their bodies burned through her. It felt terrible, she tried to tell herself. Just. . . awful.
In the most intensely amazing way possible.
Rowan gave an outraged scream and began to thrash. A little over the top, she knew, but otherwise it was going to be mere seconds before she started rubbing against him and purring. Apart from being a bad idea, that kind of behavior after last night's debacle might damage her pride permanently, so she threw herself into it. Gabriel, however, was having none of it. And she had to admit, with grudging admiration, that she was nowhere near his match for sheer brute strength. He made short work of gripping her wrists and pinning her arms above her head, then immobilizing her kicking legs neatly between his own.
His eyes flashed so hot that they looked like they might begin to shoot sparks, indicating she was moments away from being skinned alive. But how much worse could that be? She was already burning up from the inside out.
"Let go of me, damn you! You're . . . you're . . . " Rowan searched frantically for the words that might make him go away, but as she'd feared, her brain was already going fuzzy with lust. In desperation, she reached for the first thing that popped into her head. "You're invading my personal space!"
And it was true. He was, though she'd never found the expression anything but ridiculous. The whole "personal space" thing had been a major issue with the employees at the Pretty Kitty, but she'd been the best at maintaining hers. Fangs and claws would do that for you on Earth, she'd discovered. But Gabriel would be inherently immune to those sorts of tactics. The man obviously had no conception of breathing room.
Rowan wished futilely that she weren't enjoying the invasion quite so much.
There was a flash of perfect white teeth as Gabriel's mouth curved upward into a surprised grin. It lit up his entire face, and the angry heat in his expression faded, to be replaced by cautious curiosity. He was so close to her, Rowan realized, his soft, playful mouth inches from her own. If she raised her head just a little, she could feel it on her own again. The traitorous something that wanted to take Gabriel for her own whispered and cajoled through her veins, making her ache. Making her want what she should not have almost to the point of screaming.
Gabriel sensed the change in her. Rowan could tell by the way his eyelids dropped lazily to half-mast, the way he angled himself over her, a position of gentle dominance. There was a haziness in his gaze that she was certain matched what he saw in her own. When he spoke, his voice was low and scraped pleasurably across her nerve endings.
"Your personal . . . where did you learn English anyway? American cable television?"
"I. . . " Breathe, she instructed herself. And for the love of all that is blessed, do not moan. "I could speak English because it was the first language I heard when I arrived. I'm not sure how such a thing is possible," she confessed, compelled to keep talking in the hopes that it would stop the inevitable. "But I think it's because our worlds are so close together. Because they," she paused to wet her lips with her tongue, unwittingly drawing Gabriel's eyes to her mouth, "touch. "
"Hmm," was his only response, a soft growl that left no doubt as to his intentions. Rowan swallowed hard. She wanted this. She didn't want this. Oh, the Goddess help her, maybe she should just keep talking.
"I actually think," she continued breathlessly, "that they might be twinned. Two halves of the same whole. It would explain . . . quite a bit. . . "
"Fascinating," Gabriel murmured, and somehow Rowan doubted he was talking about anything to do with worlds. He was a breath away from her, only seconds from a searing kiss should she wish it. And she did, with an intensity that left her quivering. But reason, unwanted though it was, finally penetrated the sexual haze that enveloped them. The connection had to be broken. It was the only thing to be done.
"Let me up, Gabriel," she said softly. She hoped he would do as she asked, though it shouldn't have mattered to her if she had to push him as she had last night. More force might even have been preferable, possibly swaying him once and for all into letting her be. But though there was a flash of regret in his eyes— so quick Rowan nearly missed it—he eased himself off of her to sit on the ground beside her. She waited to see whether he would show any anger, even frustration that might turn to something darker. Something that would make it easier to push him away, to rip into him enough that he would gladly leave her alone. But Gabriel's strong features gave away nothing but warmth, faint concern, and that simmering undercurrent of attraction that seemed to connect them despite the space between them.
It shouldn't have pleased her that he gave her no excuse to hurt him. But it did.
She had never been easy with men such as this, who wore their power and confidence like a comfortable cloak. Or in Lucien's case, brandished it like a weapon. But where that type of man had always seemed to her to consist of nothing but hard edges, she sensed a playful sweetness lurking just beneath the surface of Gabriel MacInnes. It made her want to know more about him, made her want to give a little instead of only taking.
These were feelings that should not be. But they were undeniable.
She raised herself to sit beside him, close but not touching, feeling the shift between them as fully as if the ground beneath them had moved. Being angry at Gabriel, even with the insane lust all mixed up in it, had been easier. Now, the anger having vanished like so much smoke, how was she to deal with him? There was more here than she had suspected or wanted. Rowan felt it shimmering in the air of the forest, a teasing promise that gave no hint whether it would be for good or ill should she remain to explore it.
Rowan sighed, regretting, just a little, that her path was set. She could not remain to know what fate had hidden for her here should she stay.
But that did not stop her traitorous heart from wishing, just a little, that she could.
Gabriel sprawled on the ground, watching her while he struggled with his frustration. He'd seen Rowan begin to open up, and just now she'd closed herself off completely again. It was as though a veil came down over her eyes and her face that shielded her innermost thoughts from him. He badly wanted to rip it away and see what she was so determined to hide All he knew for certain was that Rowan's reaction to him was no less intense than his to her. Her long, lithe body had actually seemed to vibrate beneath him, Gabriel thought, shifting uncomfortably as his body responded to the memory. It had taken—was still taking—all of his willpower to behave himself.
He was actually rather proud of that. Behaving himself wasn't generally his strong suit.
He had no illusions about the situation. Though she wanted him, the woman seemed determined to torment him by holding herself back. He had no idea why, and wanted desperately to remove that roadblock she was hiding behind. But he had every expectation that once she collected herself, Rowan would either make a run for it or hurl some choice bit of invective at him to make him go away. Gabriel decided with grim determination that if she thought she could get rid of
him so easily, she was in for a rude awakening.
Of course, so was he if she decided to shoot flames from her fingertips again. It had been one of the shocks of his life to see her burn away that branch with so little effort. He wondered what other neat little talents Rowan was possessed of, then decided he probably didn't want to know. If she could, say, make things explode or fly, it was bound to scatter his focus. Not to mention make him jumpy.
So, not knowing what to say, he simply watched and waited, enjoying the way her hair seemed almost to pulse, vibrantly red, against the cool green of the forest. Eventually, as he knew it would be, his patience was rewarded. Gabriel had decided to let her set the tone. He was ready for everything from contentiousness to outright violence. It was a surprise to discover Rowan was in the mood for neither.
"So," Rowan finally began, flicking her eyes over him, then away. It betrayed an uncertainty he hadn't been expecting, and a dim flicker of hope sprang to life within him. It was true, she'd looked at him with unusual softness before asking him to let her up. And she also hadn't taken what would have been a prime opportunity to hurl him against a tree.
Hell. He was too big a boy to be grasping at straws here, Gabriel told himself as he waited for the inevitable insult. Getting Rowan not to despise him was going to be an uphill battle all the way, and he'd do well to remember it. She surprised him, however, by staying cordial.
Well, mostly.
"What did you have for lunch?"
It was a strange question, he thought, but one he was happy to answer if it kept her talking to him more like an equal than a subhuman.
"I stopped in at Gid and Carry's. She makes excellent pasta, which I took advantage of. Why?" Was she hungry? he wondered. Did she eat regular food when she wasn't sipping from someone's neck? He should have asked Gideon, Gabriel realized, if he'd seen her eat anything this morning. Feeding her, in a more normal sense this time, would be an excellent opportunity to stay by her side for a bit longer.
"You're wearing it. I was just curious. " Her smile was placid, but Gabriel couldn't miss the wicked twinkle in her eyes before she turned her head to study a leaf that lay on the ground.
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