done some snooping, mainly just getting what information I could from Jessen and Sorcha. Of course I was interested in Flaming Hearts. He ran it.
“This way.” He beckoned with a soft tug on my hand.
We made our way around a fairy hovering over a flower and a winged horse with forelegs reaching for the sky. He led me to a cluster of three figures. One was a bare-chested Morgon man, his arms reaching upward, his muscles tight for take-off. The second was a Morgon woman, her wings at rest as she gazed down at her feet. The third was the same Morgon man and woman clasped in each other’s arms, partially dressed. Her gown had slipped from her shoulder, baring one breast. He held her as if she were the most precious jewel in the world.
My throat tightened. I knew my cheeks were pink. They appeared as if they were two real lovers, and I should avert my eyes. But I couldn’t.
“Who’s…who is the artist?”
“His name is Marius. He’s extremely talented.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “He is.”
“Come. There’s another I want to show you.”
He pulled me along to a shadowed corner that colored a white marble figure to pale blue under the moonlight. Her arms rested at her sides. One slippered toe peeked out from the hem of her gown. Her face angled up toward the sky, a veil draped over face and hair, billowing in an imaginary wind. From her back flared huge feathered wings, finely detailed to realistic perfection. She was absolutely stunning—a luminous angel of profound beauty.
I reached out and touched her face and marble veil. I marveled at the artist’s talent to chisel this hard stone into soft, lovely lines and create the illusion of this transparent shroud.
I stepped back. Not realizing how close Paxon was, I bumped into his chest. I flinched, but he placed his hands on my waist, keeping me still. The weight of his hands, the tightening of his fingers sent a shivering thrill through my body.
He spoke in a hushed tone. “She reminds me of you.”
A breeze blew a dust of snow from her wing, whirling away into the air. I studied her pretty face tilting in pensive thought.
“Is that how you see me? Veiled? In hiding?”
One of his hands swept my hair over my shoulder then circled my waist, spreading across my stomach. He pulled me against the hard line of his body and whispered into my ear. “I want you to lift the veil. I want to see all of you.”
He had no idea what those words did to me. I wanted the same. I didn’t want just anyone to see me. I wanted him to see me. I leaned back, placing my hands on top of his. When his lips touched the skin of my neck, I tilted my head at an angle. I couldn’t think anymore.
I just wanted. Period. Desire sparked as it never had for me before.
He pressed soft caresses up the side column of my neck, then whispered, “Will you open for me, Ella?”
Hesitant, throat thick with emotion, I whispered back, “Yes.”
He spun me around and took my lips, crushing my body against his. He invaded with desperate need. I felt the same way, clenching a hand in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted me off my feet. His arms became iron bands binding us together. His lips firmed against my soft ones. I opened wider, inviting him in. Farther. Deeper. A soft sound escaped me. He swallowed it. A warmth spread through my body, pooling at my core. I licked deeper into his mouth with a soft moan.
He pulled away at once, breathing hard and fast. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine, our white breath mingling together.
“Ella, Ella, Ella.” He slowly lowered my feet to the snowy ground and fisted a hand in my long hair. “What are you doing to me?”
What am I doing to him? What was he doing to me ? I didn’t even recognize myself, clamoring all over him like some wanton girl. I still wanted to, but he kept our lips apart.
“What’s wrong?” My voice sounded different, rough.
He grinned. “Nothing’s wrong . It’s just a little too
“This way.” He beckoned with a soft tug on my hand.
We made our way around a fairy hovering over a flower and a winged horse with forelegs reaching for the sky. He led me to a cluster of three figures. One was a bare-chested Morgon man, his arms reaching upward, his muscles tight for take-off. The second was a Morgon woman, her wings at rest as she gazed down at her feet. The third was the same Morgon man and woman clasped in each other’s arms, partially dressed. Her gown had slipped from her shoulder, baring one breast. He held her as if she were the most precious jewel in the world.
My throat tightened. I knew my cheeks were pink. They appeared as if they were two real lovers, and I should avert my eyes. But I couldn’t.
“Who’s…who is the artist?”
“His name is Marius. He’s extremely talented.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “He is.”
“Come. There’s another I want to show you.”
He pulled me along to a shadowed corner that colored a white marble figure to pale blue under the moonlight. Her arms rested at her sides. One slippered toe peeked out from the hem of her gown. Her face angled up toward the sky, a veil draped over face and hair, billowing in an imaginary wind. From her back flared huge feathered wings, finely detailed to realistic perfection. She was absolutely stunning—a luminous angel of profound beauty.
I reached out and touched her face and marble veil. I marveled at the artist’s talent to chisel this hard stone into soft, lovely lines and create the illusion of this transparent shroud.
I stepped back. Not realizing how close Paxon was, I bumped into his chest. I flinched, but he placed his hands on my waist, keeping me still. The weight of his hands, the tightening of his fingers sent a shivering thrill through my body.
He spoke in a hushed tone. “She reminds me of you.”
A breeze blew a dust of snow from her wing, whirling away into the air. I studied her pretty face tilting in pensive thought.
“Is that how you see me? Veiled? In hiding?”
One of his hands swept my hair over my shoulder then circled my waist, spreading across my stomach. He pulled me against the hard line of his body and whispered into my ear. “I want you to lift the veil. I want to see all of you.”
He had no idea what those words did to me. I wanted the same. I didn’t want just anyone to see me. I wanted him to see me. I leaned back, placing my hands on top of his. When his lips touched the skin of my neck, I tilted my head at an angle. I couldn’t think anymore.
I just wanted. Period. Desire sparked as it never had for me before.
He pressed soft caresses up the side column of my neck, then whispered, “Will you open for me, Ella?”
Hesitant, throat thick with emotion, I whispered back, “Yes.”
He spun me around and took my lips, crushing my body against his. He invaded with desperate need. I felt the same way, clenching a hand in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted me off my feet. His arms became iron bands binding us together. His lips firmed against my soft ones. I opened wider, inviting him in. Farther. Deeper. A soft sound escaped me. He swallowed it. A warmth spread through my body, pooling at my core. I licked deeper into his mouth with a soft moan.
He pulled away at once, breathing hard and fast. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to mine, our white breath mingling together.
“Ella, Ella, Ella.” He slowly lowered my feet to the snowy ground and fisted a hand in my long hair. “What are you doing to me?”
What am I doing to him? What was he doing to me ? I didn’t even recognize myself, clamoring all over him like some wanton girl. I still wanted to, but he kept our lips apart.
“What’s wrong?” My voice sounded different, rough.
He grinned. “Nothing’s wrong . It’s just a little too
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