"Oh. I'm sorry." I nibbled on my lower lip for a moment. "How did it turn out?"
He flashed me a quick grin before starting the car and backing it out of the parking spot. "Chemical analysis of the soil and water table showed they're unpolluted, as I've said for the last six years."
"Good."
"It was damned annoying timing on their part. I planned on helping search the antiquities network for news of the statue, but was tied down with the minutiae of officialdom."
"That's OK. Clare and Finn worked on that while I was gone."
He glanced at me before pulling out into traffic. "Why haven't you been sleeping well?"
I hesitated about telling him. I'd already made a fool of myself by sounding jealous and possessive of him when there was no relationship to be jealous or possessive about, but the urge to protect my delicate ego was strong. In the end, though, I told the truth, because… well, just because I figured it might mean something to him. "The time not spent in incredibly erotic dreams about you was mostly spent tossing and turning, wondering what you were doing, why you hadn't called me, and whether you regretted making the proposition you did."
"You didn't call me either," he said, picking the one thing out of my embarrassing confession that I knew was the weakest.
"I did. You didn't answer. And I… er… didn't leave a voice mail."
"Why?" he asked, shooting me another quick glance.
I looked out the window at the lights of the city as they passed by. It was painful having to admit how much I missed him during the two days away. "I didn't have anything to report. I just wanted to talk to you."
"Well, I'm here now," he said, pausing to let an elderly couple cross the street.
"Yes, and that's something I'm rather curious about. Clare knows full well there's a bus that goes from the station to less than a block away from our apartment. I've hauled a lot more luggage than what I have now. So why has she sent you to fetch me?"
His eyebrows flattened out to a straight line. "I just thought it would be polite to pick you up since you'd been away on my behalf."
"Doing the job you're paying me to do," I pointed out, secretly delighted by the revelation that Paen had missed me while I was gone.
"I was in town anyway," he said, avoiding my eye.
"Uh-huh. And the kilt?"
"I'm a Scot. I'm allowed to wear one."
"I know that, silly. I just meant, what's the occasion?"
He maneuvered the car slowly through a busy, pedestrian-laden street. "I don't need an occasion to wear a kilt."
"Riiiight," I drawled.
He sent me a quick glance. "Most women fair drool at the sight of a man in a kilt."
Oho! So that was the way things were. I fought to keep my smile from showing, and tried to look only mildly interested. "Do they?"
"Yes." He glanced at me again. "They find it sexy."
"I'm sure they do." I pointed out the next turn, and Paen swung around a corner, entering the narrow street in the old part of Edinburgh where Clare and I shared an apartment. "Did you miss me?"
He pulled into the tiny parking area behind our building, giving me a startled look. "Did I what?"
"You heard me. Did you miss me while I was gone?"
"Where should I park?" he asked, ignoring my question.
"There, next to Clare's car. It's the spot assigned to me, but I don't have a car, so you can use it. And stop avoiding answering the question."
He pulled into a spot and turned off the engine. "I regretted that you were away on business when I couldn't help you."
I smiled to myself as I unhooked my seat belt. "Not good enough. Did you miss me?"
He got out of the car, going to open the trunk.
I followed, my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned a hip against the car. "Well?"
"Let me ask you this—did you miss me?" he said, slamming the trunk closed.
"Very much," I said, waiting.
His eyes lightened another few degrees. "I see. In that case—yes, I missed you."
"Good. Are you going to spend the night this time, or are you not yet ready for such a thing?"
"That was our original agreement, but I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind."
"I don't change my mind that easily," I said as we walked to the building, waiting as he opened the door for me. The faint sound of music from Mila's sex shop was the only sound to permeate this part of the building. I started up the stairs to our apartment, but Paen stopped me, pushing me up against the wall of the stairwell, his body blocking out the dim light that hung over the stairs until all I could see was the silver gleaming brightly in his eyes.
"You're tired," he said.
"I haven't yawned once. How can you possibly imagine I'm tired?"
"You said you weren't sleeping well," he reminded me.
"I slept on the train coming home," I answered, thankful that I had dropped off for a few minutes so I could tell him that.
"You look tired," he insisted.
I smiled. I couldn't help it; he was so cute trying to deny the obvious. "I do not look tired. I checked a mirror before the train arrived. The dark circles under my eyes are hereditary, not due to lack of sleep. I am exhibiting no obvious signs of fatigue."
He leaned into me. "I can feel that you're near exhaustion."
"Nuh-uh, that won't work either, because according to you, we don't have a psychic thing. So you can't possibly know what I'm feeling," I argued softly, my body turning into one gigantic tingling erogenous zone as he pinned me against the wall.
"Then you won't mind at all if I ascertain for myself your feelings on the subject of our having sex?" His voice was likewise low, but roughened with arousal.
"Good god, no. Ascertain away," I said, gasping as his hands slid up my waist to cup my breasts, causing me to rub myself against him like a cat begging for stroking. I clutched the back of his jacket to keep myself upright, my senses overwhelmed with the scent and feel of him.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said, as if he had to warn me. My answer was to move sinuously against him, twine one leg around his, and grab his head with both hands to pull him into a kiss that I figured would make him see stars, if not actual galaxies.
The elf in me wanted to distance myself from the situation and analyze just what it was that made Paen so attractive to me, but bless my dad's mortal genes, there was enough of him in my chromosomal makeup to let me ignore the elf part and go into a full swoon of delight when Paen's lips touched mine. That touch was brief, but I didn't mourn its loss because what followed was enough to have my shoelaces melting.
It started out like a regular kiss—our lips were there, smooshing up against each other, tongues present but not yet engaged. There was a sense of aroused excitement with the first couple of passes of lip action, followed by a tentative, questing touch with the tip of my tongue. Paen's tongue answered, and suddenly he wasn't just kissing me, he was feasting, supping on my mouth, drinking me in like I was the source of all being. His body was hard against mine, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation—far from it. While he was busy making love to my mouth, my body curled around him, trying to get closer still.
Wanting more, I poured into him the feelings he was arousing in me, the sensations he fired up deep inside me, the desires and wants and a whole slew of complex emotions that I couldn't even begin to imagine. I flooded him with what I was feeling—and he froze.
Is something wrong? I asked as his body turned into a statue. He pulled back, looking down at me with his quicksilver eyes, now so bright I swear I could read a book by them.