so the soft material was tucked against the skin of her neck.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked numbly. She would ignore the question of how for the moment. There was only so much information she could process at one time.
Damian stared at the nondescript wooden door of the farmhouse. “This is the eastern entrance to my…” He bit back his words, a brief flash of pain crossing his face. “The enclave.”
“Here? In the middle of nowhere, North Dakota?” She whipped out her arm and motioned at the barren landscape to emphasize her point.
His lips curled in a quirk of humor. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like a very smart choice.” He scanned the empty, cold land, a blank look holding his face. “When we first came to this land, it was wild and free, nothing but open space. Two thousand years ago, the entire continent was unclaimed. The location was chosen because of what it provided.”
She stifled a shiver. When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “And?”
He looked back at her. “And it suited our needs. Here,” he said, removing his long, wool coat and holding it open for her.
She lifted an eyebrow, doubting his sudden kindness.
“You’re freezing.” He lifted the coat slightly. “Please, put this on. It is not my intent to freeze you to death.”
Reluctant to trust his motivation, she was too logical to stand there shivering when a warm, winter coat was being offered. She turned and quickly shoved her arms into the waiting coat and tightened it around her. Instantly the shaking in her limbs stilled. His lingering warmth surrounded her and brought with it the faint hint of pine that she was beginning to associate with him.
Once again, he gently, almost reverently, pulled her long hair out from where it was trapped between the coat and her back letting it run through his fingers until it hung free. The soft caress sent whispers of pleasure coursing over her scalp and down her spine.
Unnerved by his kindness, she jerked away from his touch and spun back around, eyeing him warily. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, but otherwise showed no outward effect of being exposed to the cold weather. Evidently, the black wool suit jacket was warmer than it looked.
“Where did you get the stone?” he demanded softly.
She hesitated, her fist clenching tighter around the object in question, before admitting, “It was given to me.”
“By whom?”
“Does it matter? It’s mine,” she reasserted.
“Yes, it matters.”
She remained silent since divulging all of her secrets didn’t seem smart. After a second, he sighed.
“We need to contain the energy before it calls more—” He paused abruptly and looked around. He reached into his pocket and extended the gold ring that he’d pulled from the box earlier. “Here.”
Her confusion must have shown on her face. He pointed to the chain dangling below her fist that clenched the stone. “Put it on.”
“What?”
“The stone is attached to a chain. Put it on.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed, her suspicion rising.
“To keep it safe.”
With slow, hesitant movements, she grasped the chain then lifted it over her head, the whole time keeping her gaze firmly on him. When the chain was around her neck, she reached back to lift her hair out from under the links then adjusted the scarf until the chain rested gently against her neck, the stone nestled between the rounded swell of her breasts.
She stiffened, retreating a step as he approached. “What are you doing?” Her hand went protectively over the stone.
He extended the ring again. “I believe this will snap in place around the stone and contain the energy. I don’t want the stone. But others will. We need to stop the energy broadcast that the stone is emanating, and the circle should do that.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she understood one important fact—he didn’t want the stone .
Again, relief swamped her. Did she trust him? Did she have a
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked numbly. She would ignore the question of how for the moment. There was only so much information she could process at one time.
Damian stared at the nondescript wooden door of the farmhouse. “This is the eastern entrance to my…” He bit back his words, a brief flash of pain crossing his face. “The enclave.”
“Here? In the middle of nowhere, North Dakota?” She whipped out her arm and motioned at the barren landscape to emphasize her point.
His lips curled in a quirk of humor. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like a very smart choice.” He scanned the empty, cold land, a blank look holding his face. “When we first came to this land, it was wild and free, nothing but open space. Two thousand years ago, the entire continent was unclaimed. The location was chosen because of what it provided.”
She stifled a shiver. When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “And?”
He looked back at her. “And it suited our needs. Here,” he said, removing his long, wool coat and holding it open for her.
She lifted an eyebrow, doubting his sudden kindness.
“You’re freezing.” He lifted the coat slightly. “Please, put this on. It is not my intent to freeze you to death.”
Reluctant to trust his motivation, she was too logical to stand there shivering when a warm, winter coat was being offered. She turned and quickly shoved her arms into the waiting coat and tightened it around her. Instantly the shaking in her limbs stilled. His lingering warmth surrounded her and brought with it the faint hint of pine that she was beginning to associate with him.
Once again, he gently, almost reverently, pulled her long hair out from where it was trapped between the coat and her back letting it run through his fingers until it hung free. The soft caress sent whispers of pleasure coursing over her scalp and down her spine.
Unnerved by his kindness, she jerked away from his touch and spun back around, eyeing him warily. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, but otherwise showed no outward effect of being exposed to the cold weather. Evidently, the black wool suit jacket was warmer than it looked.
“Where did you get the stone?” he demanded softly.
She hesitated, her fist clenching tighter around the object in question, before admitting, “It was given to me.”
“By whom?”
“Does it matter? It’s mine,” she reasserted.
“Yes, it matters.”
She remained silent since divulging all of her secrets didn’t seem smart. After a second, he sighed.
“We need to contain the energy before it calls more—” He paused abruptly and looked around. He reached into his pocket and extended the gold ring that he’d pulled from the box earlier. “Here.”
Her confusion must have shown on her face. He pointed to the chain dangling below her fist that clenched the stone. “Put it on.”
“What?”
“The stone is attached to a chain. Put it on.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed, her suspicion rising.
“To keep it safe.”
With slow, hesitant movements, she grasped the chain then lifted it over her head, the whole time keeping her gaze firmly on him. When the chain was around her neck, she reached back to lift her hair out from under the links then adjusted the scarf until the chain rested gently against her neck, the stone nestled between the rounded swell of her breasts.
She stiffened, retreating a step as he approached. “What are you doing?” Her hand went protectively over the stone.
He extended the ring again. “I believe this will snap in place around the stone and contain the energy. I don’t want the stone. But others will. We need to stop the energy broadcast that the stone is emanating, and the circle should do that.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she understood one important fact—he didn’t want the stone .
Again, relief swamped her. Did she trust him? Did she have a
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