Now she would in gold.
She was officially a mystical mercenary, at last an earner in the House. Earlier, she'd rechecked MacRieve's pack just to make sure the headdress was inside, and had frowned to see he'd carefully wrapped it in a towel, as if to keep it protected for her...
Though MacRieve continued to irritate, confuse, and frustrate her, the ego-building fact remained that he was one of the most gorgeous and compelling males she'd ever seen - and he couldn't keep his paws off her.
All morning she'd been treated to the sight of four choice males, and yet, if she fantasized about making love, it was MacRieve's face she saw above her. Last night, she'd gotten a glimpse of what he'd be like as a lover.
He'd be wild.
For Mari, making love to Acton had always been pleasurable, but not earth-shattering. He'd never seemed to get crazed by his desire for her, had never taken her with a furious lust. She'd been happy with him, and she knew that sexual relationships were never perfect, but she had long craved intensity.
Yet would MacRieve be too intense? Immortal males were known to be relentless lovers, but the Lykae were supposed to bite and scratch as well. And MacRieve was huge - in all respects.
Why am I even thinking about this... ?
She hadn't noticed how often she'd been sneaking glances at him until he wasn't available for her viewing purposes. How much longer would he and Rydstrom be?
Big males talking amongst themselves. She would kill to be able to listen in on their conversation -
Wait... She unplugged her earbuds and reached for her compact, easing it open.
Not just to hear it... but to see.
28
"No progress with her, then?" Rydstrom asked as he sat on a boulder sharpening his sword.
Bowe paced beside his feebly growing fire. "None point none, apparently."
"Full moon's tomorrow night."
"Tell me something I doona know." Bowe was strung out from guarding the witch, from trying to keep his hands from her, from mulling what the hell she was to him. And always the shadow of the waxing moon haunted him.
Yet even as he worried for Mariketa's safety, he recognized that she was too full of life to go down easily. The witch was a fighter.
Unfortunately, he'd ensured she viewed him as the enemy.
"I'd wondered why you allowed the company on this trip," Rydstrom said. "I'm not just an extra sword, am I?"
Bowe shook his head. "If we don't get her out of here in time, you have to keep her from me. I will no' have had time to earn her trust or prepare her."
"You think she would run from you?"
"I canna take the chance - "
He stilled when a weird breeze blew, feeling crisp, even here in the jungle. Both he and Rydstrom peered around. Bowe had the sudden uncanny impression that they were being watched.
Rydstrom asked, "Do you see anything out there that I don't?"
"No. And I'd scent anyone who came close." Shaking off the feeling, he resumed his pacing, considering what his path should be. What's my next move with her?
Challenge and kill Cade.
Of course.
"Stop thinking about it," Rydstrom said. "I will not let you kill Cade, so put it from your thoughts."
Bowe narrowed his eyes. "I thought you'd had your mind-reading ability bound along with your tracing."
"Don't have to be a mind reader in this case. Just so you know, if anyone is going to kill my brother, it'll be me. Besides, you don't have only Cade to worry about."
"What does that mean?"
"Mariketa will turn soon," Rydstrom said.
"So?"
"So, she's definitely ready for a mate." Rydstrom scrubbed his chin. "Never have I seen a female so ready."
"Doona speak about her like that!"
He shrugged. "You should have heard Tierney. I've been near her for three weeks - it's getting stronger every day. If you take her back to civilization without some bond between you... other males will seek to steal her from you."
"A bond? I doona see it forthcoming. She despises me." Bowe sank onto a stump. "I used to have it so easy with females." He had no experience with this. For a millennium, a crook of his finger had him anyone he'd wanted. Now he truly had to question if he could win Mariketa over.
"There is a pleasing sort of irony that you actually want a witch, and she doesn't want you back."
"Enjoyin' this, are you, then? She said we're no' compatible, or some such bullshite." He frowned. "Do you know what jangle pop is?" When Rydstrom shook his head, Bowe continued, "And she asked me if I would go back for Mariah."
"Discerning question."
"Whose bloody side are you on?" Bowe asked, but Rydstrom merely hiked his shoulders. "So she asked me, and I told her I... would."
"Ill-advised, Scot."
"That's the way I felt at the time. Should I have lied to her?"
"At the time? Twelve hours later, and it's different? Didn't I tell you to make a decision and stick to it?"
"It's no' that easy. Every time I realize how much I want the witch, I continue to feel disloyal. And I doona want Mariketa to think me disloyal - but then I'm really no' if she's truly Mariah." He raked his fingers through his hair. "One could go crazy thinking about all this."
"Just reason it out. What are the pros and cons with her?"
"Reason! Always with your bloody reason. Do you know what I'm going to enjoy? When you meet your demoness and she shakes to hell your unflappable demeanor. I'm going to laugh when you turn enraged, horns flaring ramrod straight every time she saunters by."
"Noted. Now, begin with the pros."