Free Legend 4 - Free Falling by Claudy Conn

is—and it occurred to me I hadn’t eaten in a very, very long time!
    I nodded at the hunk in blue jeans and a black, silky long-sleeved T. My mouth was full, so I couldn’t speak, but I sure could see. No getting away from it. He was beyond a ten! Way beyond. He had his tawny hair braided, folded under, and tied with a leather string at the nape of his neck, and he was moving towards the table with a plateful of pastries and a mug of coffee.
    I swallowed hard and reached for a pastry. He slapped my hand and said, “Get your own.”
    I was so startled all I could do was wrinkle my nose at him. He laughed and said, “Jesting, enfant , just jesting—go ahead, dig in.”
    I allowed him a half smile and did just that. Didn’t bother to speak for a few moments as I devoured pastries and drank down two cups of black coffee. Oh yeah.
    Sally handed us each a plate of eggs and bacon. “No argument—don’t want to hear of it … whist—there, go on … eat!”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Danté said and chuckled.
    I was starving and beamed at Sally. “Sweet. I wouldn’t dream of arguing with you. This is just what I wanted.”
    What I wanted was to have a private conversation with himself who was presently stuffing his face across from me, but obviously I couldn’t do it with Sally hovering. I said idly, “Want to take a walk with me after this?”
    He eyed me darkly. “Not really.”
    That set me momentarily off my game. “Oh—why not?”
    “I said I didn’t really want to, but I will take a walk with you,” he said with a smirk that shouted, ‘ got you where I want you’.
    Oh, he was so annoying. We ate in silence. I sat back and told Sally she was the best ever. When I looked back I noticed Danté staring at my belly. I realized that my little blue knit sweater had risen, and my low-cut jeans had slid; peeking out was a bit of my tattoo. I felt myself blush. I watched him as his thick lashes shaded his gold-flecked eyes.
    Time to leave, I told myself as I got up and went to the hall closet. I snatched up my curly wool–lined brown leather blazer. He had followed me into the hall, and I turned and asked, “Ready?”
    He shrugged into the black leather pilot-styled jacket he had in his hand. Without answering me, he took the doorknob from my hold and opened the door wide. Still without a word he waved me forward. I shrugged to myself. Control freak.
    I waited until we were a distance from the kitchen before I looked up at his profile and asked, “Why did you tell me when we were in Faery that I don’t even know how to shift? I know how to shift.”
    “You shift like an oaf.”
    “Now stop that!” I nearly stomped my foot. “If you want to help me—guard me from evil—whatever, fine. I admit I don’t know as much as I should. I wasn’t expecting to be in this position.”
    He stopped then and took my shoulders to make me face him. “You ask for respect, enfant Daoine? Why do you think I should give you respect when you do not offer the same?”
    I was looking up into those gold-lit eyes. I was looking at his sensuous lips, curved now into a sneer, and the person I used to be wagged a finger at me in my mind. Before I could stop myself I whined, “I’m sorry … my bad .” Yuck , I thought, who is that? No tough warrior—just a fool!
    He regarded me suspiciously for a moment before inclining his head. “Right. We will start over. Your shifting style is like spontaneous combustion. You boom through the atmosphere leaving your scent all the way to your destination. Even an Unseelie Drone could follow the trail you leave.”
    “I … it … this Fae thing is basically all new to me. I haven’t shifted much, you see—I was living a human life. My mom wanted me to live my human life, enjoy friends my own age, and I never bothered with my Fae skills much … before.” I wasn’t looking at him as I thought of my dad.
    He dropped my shoulders from his hold, but he was looking at me still. “We will