He laughed, then extended his arms. “Come. Sit. Tell me about this dream.”
I drifted close. I’d come out here to escape him, yet here I was, unable to resist the allure of that insouciant half smile. Orthe fact that he apparently considered my will to live a foregone conclusion.
But once I neared the bench, I hesitated. I had nowhere to sit except in a straddle atop him, which he seemed to expect, because he flicked beckoning fingers at me.
I scoffed. “I’m not going to use you as a seat, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He pouted. “Why not?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“Oh, come on. I had to endure all of five minutes in bed alone. The least you can do is cuddle me.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not a chance.”
“You’d deny a poor, lonely husband the minimum of attention?”
“You’re a big boy.” I settled into our familiar sniping, the dream’s aftertaste finally receding. “You’ll live.”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “We’re both wearing clothes.”
“Not enough forthat.”
A shimmer moved in his eyes, one that said heknewI wouldn’t surrender, but he enjoyed putting the effort in, regardless.
“Besides,” I added. “Last I checked, I could sit anywhere I damn well please.”
He laughed and dropped his hands. “Well, I can’t argue with that. It was obviously said by someone incredibly wise.” He heaved himself upright—complete with an obscene amount of abdominal rippling—and patted the now-empty half of the bench. “There. Happy?”
I eyed the space he’d cleared. Goddess. He both eased and sharpened the ache inside me. Like an addiction. The more I got of him, the more I wanted. And the more I wanted, the harder it was to keep him at arm’s length.
This was dangerous.Hewas dangerous.
So dangerous, in fact, that I couldn’t stop myself from settling on the bench and drawing up my legs. I tucked my nightgown close, at least, so as not to provide any encouragement.
Not that Kyven needed such things. He stacked his forearms on the apex of my knees and rested his chin on top.
I sucked in a breath. Starlight and bayou-glow danced across his face, rendering him breathtaking. Even more so than when he slept.
“You’re staring,” he said.
I cleared my throat. “You happen to be in the direct path of my eyeballs. It has nothing to do with you.”
He laughed softly. “You’restaring.”
I huffed. “Okay, fine, well, so are you.”
“Mmm. Because I like your face. I like your hair. I likeyou.”
Heat throbbed in my cheeks. Looking at him did things to me, but being lookedatpiled a whole set of other things right atop the first. “Youdoknow I still hate you, right?”
His smile deepened. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you feel about me.”
The air thickened. Gods, how did he do that? Say one thing and mean another entirely?
Time to change the subject, since I couldn’t win at this little game. “As delightful as your arrogance is, I actually... Can I ask you something?”
He hiked a brow in invitation. Or challenge, maybe. “Go ahead.”
