Free Dangerous Magic by Alix Rickloff

ocean against the cliffs. Tree limbs creaked overhead, and twice the scuttling of a small animal diving for cover preceded their approach.
    Rafe kept silent as they walked, and Gwenyth began to wonder where he steered her. They had left even the most cautious of trysting couples far behind. She thought to speak, but the purpose in his step and the firm way he grasped her hand as if she might escape him made her hold her tongue.
    Here was her chance. The child she sought may be just a night’s passing away. Rafe Fleming stood ready to aid her, even if he remained ignorant of her intentions. He left tomorrow, but might he leave her with a gift worth more to her than any payment he could make?
    She placed a hand upon her stomach. A child of her own. A daughter if she had her way. A girl with her mother’s gentle and healing heart and the strength and confidence of her father. She sent a prayer to Damara winging through the wood’s canopy, pressing the May goddess to ready her womb, to allow the passing and planting of Rafe’s seed within her. She would get one chance for the child she desired—one night to keep her promise to the generations still to come.
    He stopped. Gwenyth, her mind turned inward to the dark-haired child of her dreams, and off the firm, comfortable feel of Rafe’s fingers threaded in hers, looked up and around to see where he’d led them. Ahead of her, framed in the glow of the moon, stood the dark imposing form of Goninan’s closed and shuttered west façade. To her right, the trees bent in around the stream as it made its inky, silent way into the well. The soft splash of water sounded as it cascaded across the granite to fall into the narrow cleft of rock.
    “Why?” she whispered as if Goninan’s presence was a living one.
    His face was lost to darkness. She felt rather than saw him shrug as he pulled her close. “I don’t know what brought me here. Of all the magic tonight, this place feels the most magical. The center of it—the eye.”
    His body’s heat shimmered between them like a glow of light. Gwenyth stepped into his arms, butterflies tingling in the pit of her stomach. Enjoying the feel of him pressed against her, the steady thrum of his heart beneath her cheek, she made no move to draw closer or pull away. The scent of wood smoke, caught in the folds of his shirt, tickled her nose. She amended her earlier comparison. This was a hundred times better than Wills Hutchens. She splayed a hand over his heart. And a thousand times worse.
    Tears welled in her eyes, and she sniffled.
    Still holding tight to her, Rafe leaned back. “What’s this?”
    His voice soothed her, and Gwenyth wiped the traitorous tears from her face.
    He began to draw away from her. “Should we go back?”
    But Gwenyth caught his hands. “No.”
    The urgency in her answer startled them both. He paused, and Gwenyth, led by the aching need building within her, pressed her lips to his. They were soft and warm, and she gave herself up to the feel of his mouth upon hers, the spread of his hands across her back, the heat of his body against her as they embraced. Everywhere they touched, a fire ignited, a spreading glow flickering and sparking as it ran up and down her limbs, jumping between them like heat lightning.
    His kiss grew in power until she opened to him. He plunged deep, devouring her, his mouth hot and demanding. She met and matched his hunger, loving the taste of ale on his tongue, the scrape of his whiskered jaw, the clean, musky scent of his skin. He broke off to nibble a path up her neck. She shivered at the teasing flick of his tongue against her earlobe, her stomach tightening with lust.
    She’d had no men since her long-ago tryst with Wills, though not for lack of opportunity. But with every passing year, the dream’s power strengthened. The images grew more vivid. The risk to her heart became too great. She’d forgotten the slow coiling excitement at a lover’s touch. The tugging throb of need