Free Veil of Shadows by Shiloh Walker Page B

been working into one of his pockets. Then he pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand.
    She placed her hand in his and stood. As small as it was, there was strength in that touch. Her palm was calloused, her nails brutally short and naked. Lifting it, he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse leaped at his touch and he felt his own do the same in response.
    She twined their fingers and tugged on his hand. “Come with me.”
    “Where?” he asked, lifting a brow. Not that it mattered. He’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked. That realization should have shaken him to the core, and it might—later, when thoughts of touching her, when thoughts of mounting her sleek, slender body weren’t threatening to drive him mad.
    A feline smile curled her lips and she murmured, “Being one of the people in charge does on occasion have its benefits. I’ve got my own dormer. As charming as your bunkmates may be, I’d rather not have an audience, and I’m also not much for having sex in the grass. Leads to bug bites.”
    “I love the way you think.”
    He followed along beside her and tried not to rush. He had no idea where her dormer was; otherwise he might have scooped her up and run the entire way. Need pounded inside him, pulsed in tandem with his heart and echoed through every fiber of his being. How in the hell was it possible for a walk to take so long, and how was it possible that he grew more aroused with every step?
    Every fucking step.
    He grew more aware of her, noticing how her chest rose and fell as she breathed, noticing how gracefully she moved. The way the faint light glimmered on her hair, dancing off the blue-black highlights.
    What in the hell was taking so long? Did she have a dormer built on the other side of the mountains?
    Then they reached it, and abruptly, he realized he didn’t know if he was ready to do this. Didn’t know if he should. Somehow, he knew deep inside that touching her would be unlike touching any other woman in his life. She was unlike any other woman, with her strength and her confidence, yet there was vulnerability that was also part of who she was.
    Once he touched her, once he had her, could he let her go?
    Did he even have a chance of keeping her? Deep inside, the answer to that question made itself known. No. He could never keep her . . . and he shouldn’t even think of touching her.
    Then she tipped her head back and smiled at him and all those questions faded away into nothingness. It didn’t matter. In that moment, only she mattered. She led him inside, and the moment the door shut behind them, he grabbed her and whirled around, pressing her up against the door.
    Over the past three days, he’d envisioned how he might handle it if she came to him like this. A slow, careful seduction—that had been his ultimate plan.
    But plans often fell apart, and his had just crumbled. Slanting his mouth against hers, he fisted a hand in her short, dark hair and tugged, arching her head back to deepen his kiss. She opened for him even as she worked her hands between them and went to work on the utility vest he wore over his tunic. It went flying across the room and then she reached for his belt. Heavy with his knife and other weapons, he should have handled it with more care but he had no patience, no finesse, as he nudged her hands away and all but ripped the blasted thing off. It fell to their feet and the rest of their clothes followed.
    When he had her naked, he forced himself to take a step back. He needed to see her, needed to at least once see that slender, strong body completely. His chest heaved as he gritted out, “Bed.”
    “No.” A smile curled her lips and she reached for him. “Here.” She drew him back to her and reached up, twining her arms around his neck.
    Xan groaned and cupped her hips in his hands, lifting her. He braced her back against the door and leaned into her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, an action that opened the