Free Red Mortal by Deidre Knight Page A

whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “I was upset. . . . I needed to regain my equilibrium. And I had an errand to run.”
    He quirked a smile. “Right then, of all times?”
    “I had an idea.” She shrugged, stepping out of his embrace, and he saw sadness in her eyes. “It was just a thought . . . besides you needed time to cool down. We both did.”
    He clasped her by the shoulders. “Daphne, I don’t want to argue or waste valuable time. I just want to be with you, hold you. I want . . .” He shook his head, grasping for the right words. “Time is precious now, and we shouldn’t be foolish or argue. I want to take you as my lover, once and for all.”
    She flushed deeply at his admission. “Okay, the word lover, from your lips like that? So very, very sexy.”
    “Lovers . . . you and me,” he murmured, bending lower so he could kiss her throat. He kept his mouth against that hot, fluttering pulse. She tasted sweet, perfect. Oh, by the gods, he did plan to claim her as lover. Tonight, not later. “In every way, together. Lovers, Daphne . . . yes.”
    She never so much as shifted in his arms—yet instantly her outfit changed to something much sexier, a black dress that dipped low in front, outlining the swelling shape of her breasts and her very feminine figure. It flowed with all the sensuality of an ancient Greek gown, but the fabric and color were far more tempestuous. Daring. Seductive.
    She gave him a demure smile. “I said you needed to cool down. But Leo? There are some ways in which I prefer you very worked up and in a fever.”
    She leaned back against the bookshelf, studying him. After a moment, she cocked her head sideways, her smile widening. “Those combat pants look most handsome on you, but do you know what I’ve always loved? The idea of you nude, wrapped in your crimson cloak.” She released a slow, dreamy sigh. “And then very slowly, I take my hands, and peel that fabric away.” Her fair cheeks suddenly grew rosy as she demonstrated with her hands. “Fold by fold, I expose your godlike body to my virginal eyes, unfold you like a mighty, masculine flower. Yes, that is what I’ve dreamed of . . . for many lonely nights.”
    “By Olympus, Daphne,” he barked, his pants tenting sharply. “Careful what you wish for.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s my damned cloak when I need it?”
    Again, she snapped her fingers, and the folded garment appeared right in her hand. They’d lain on it in the meadow earlier, and she’d obviously forgotten to bring it when she teleported them into the study.
    “Looking for this?” Her pale blue eyes sparkled with lust and mischief. And then just as suddenly, she appeared shy, holding the cloak against her chest. “I suppose it’s very forward of me, my lord, to describe wanting you thusly . . . to be so bold about my desires.”
    Leo advanced on her, his mind rapidly calculating how fast he could undress himself and fulfill her intimate fantasy. Where would he lie and cover himself for her? On the sofa? No, too bland. Perhaps he would pose on the edge of his desk, as if awaiting an artist’s sensual rendering. He wanted her . . . to want him. He was still somewhat young—for now—and he yearned for her to appreciate his honed, warrior’s physique while she could. There was one physical trait he had epic amounts of confidence in: the strength and shape of his nude body.
    Wordlessly, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Tossing the garment aside, he faced Daphne wearing only his combat pants and boots. She sagged against the bookshelf, still clutching his cloak to her breasts. Very slowly, she raked her gaze down his chest, lingering for a moment on his abdomen, at the tightly defined muscles that rippled there.
    “You approve,” he said, his voice as husky as it ever got.
    She replied by allowing the crimson cloak to unfurl in her grasp. He, in turn, began unfastening his belt, lingering on the