Echoes in the Mist (Kingsleys in Love 1)

He nodded. “Not tonight. But soon.” The vulnerable whisper of emotion Ariana had come to recognize flickered in his eyes, then vanished. “You don’t have to accompany me. I know how happy you’ve been at Spraystone, and how attached you are to your white owl. I’ll take care of my business—”

“I want to go with you,” she interrupted. Oblivious to the look of unguarded surprise and pleasure that flashed across her husband’s face, she studied Odysseus, assessing his condition. “If you can wait a few more days, I’m certain Odysseus will be eager and ready for his freedom. Then I can join you in Sussex.” She hesitated. “Unless you’d rather go alone.”

“No, of course not.” Trenton cleared his throat roughly. “You’re welcome to come.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” She inclined her head quizzically. “We will be returning to Wight, won’t we?”

Trenton smiled. “Could I keep you away?”

“Probably not.” She strolled out of the barn, wrapping her arms about herself and gazing at the plush green hills and brilliant flowers surrounding them. “I never expected to feel such a sense of belonging as I do at Spraystone.”

“I know.” Trenton came up behind her. “The Isle has a way of stealing your heart.”

“You never did teach me to sail,” she reminded him.

“You never left your owl’s side.”

“Never?” She turned, giving him a look that was an irresistible combination of innocence and seduction.

Desire, relentless and staggering, exploded in Trenton’s loins, an inevitability he no longer questioned, only marveled at. Pulling Ariana to him, he threaded his fingers through the thick masses of her auburn hair. “I can’t get enough of you, misty angel.”

“Nor I of you,” she whispered, reaching up to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. “We really should begin packing.”

“Later.” He tugged her head back, pressing his lips to the pulse at her throat

“How much later?” She drew open the sides of his shirt, running her palms up his powerful, hair-roughened chest.

Trenton’s cobalt eyes darkened to near black. “I’m glad your owl needs more of your tender ministrations,” he growled, sweeping her into his arms and heading toward the house, “because so do I.”

“Trenton? Are you sure he’s strong enough to fly? Perhaps he—”

“Look at him,” Trenton answered gently, gesturing toward the crate. “His eyes are bright and clear. Tonight marks the fourth full day he’s eaten well. He’s been restless since morning. He needs his freedom.”

“You’re right.” Ariana raised her chin determinedly. “It would be cruel to keep him captive any longer. Odysseus needs to soar.”

“Perhaps he’ll follow us to Sussex, as he did to Wight,” Trenton suggested with a hint of a smile. “He has, it seems, appointed himself your protector.”

“Oh, I have no doubt we’ll be seeing him again.”

“Additional faith, misty angel?”

“Perpetual faith, husband.” She squatted beside the crate. “You’re well now, Odysseus,” she said solemnly. “Take the freedom that is yours by right.” Without hesitation, she lifted the crate and backed away. “Until we meet again, my friend.”

Odysseus pivoted his head, ostensibly noting that his confinement had been removed. For an instant, he leveled his penetrating topaz stare at Ariana, blinking once, twice.

Then, with an expressive screech, he spread his wings and sailed out the open barn door into the welcoming dusk.

Ariana snatched her lantern and hastened out after him.

“Where are you going?” Trenton called after her.

“I want to watch him. He’s magnificent when he flies.” She paused. “Come with me.”

“I must be insane,” Trenton muttered, following. “I run from cuckoos, I follow white owls; next you’ll have me designing structures where your bloody birds can meet for social events.”

Ariana laughed. “I rather like that idea. Hurry!” She tugged at his hand, and the two of them sped off across the ground and away from Spraystone. Odysseus’s flight was graceful and easy to follow: He was the one stark streak in the darkening sky. Twice he landed on the branches of tall trees, briefly surveyed the land below, then took flight again, evidently testing his wings, reveling in his reacquired freedom and health.

“He’s heading out over the Solent,” Trenton noted, pausing as they reached the beach beside Brading Harbor.