Spaniard Untamed (Blood and Thunder 3)

“So tie the edges under your—” He broke off to hiss between his teeth as she freed him and cupped his balls. “You’re a witch. This will be over before it begins if you don’t—”

She stroked him persuasively. “You wouldn’t dare. If I believed you, I’d stop.”

“You will stop,” he promised as he lowered her to the ground, “because I want you now.”

There was no foreplay. No finesse. None needed. Celina lay on her back, and he sank to the hilt with a groan. The day was warm, the grass was soft, and their hunger was as fierce as ever. She threw her head back with pleasure. He thrust firm and fast, bringing them the release they still so desperately needed. The more he gave, the more she wanted. Her body seemed to grow more sensitive each time they made love. “More! Faster!” she insisted, and the harder he took her, the better she liked it.

~~o0o~~

Celina reckoned she must have passed out for a while. She came to in Diego’s arms to find him kissing and soothing her from the most spectacular bout of lovemaking. “Hey, look at that,” she whispered, staring around. “Snow-capped mountains and a beautiful riverbank. The scenery here is spectacular.”

“I did tell you,” he murmured, smiling into her eyes.

Could anything be better than this? “How long have I been asleep?” The angle of the sun suggested late afternoon. Shading her eyes, she looked at him, then shivered.

Smiling reassurance, he drew her close. “You’ve been asleep some time. Understandable, don’t you think?”

“Do I look worried?”

“You shivered when you woke up.”

“Then you can’t have been holding me tightly enough,” she teased. Why now, of all times, did she feel so anxious? “Hold me tighter still,” she begged as Diego’s arms closed around her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she shivered again.

I love you, and I need to hear you say you love me too. “Nothing,” she protested with a smile.

Diego hummed, obviously not convinced. He shifted position so he could see her eyes, and his expression gentled, warmed. This was the moment, she thought, holding her breath. He was going to say something for sure.

He didn’t.

The moment passed, and nothing was said. She guessed the rumors about him were true. Diego wouldn’t commit himself to loving anyone, because he was totally devoted to his work for Blood and Thunder.

And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Celina’s inner demons insisted. No risk, no pain. No love, no loss. But then, when she was least expecting it, he said, “I think I love you.”

Chapter Thirteen

“You think you love me?” Celina queried, tamping down the feelings inside her.

“I love you,” Diego stated firmly.

She couldn’t have been more shocked. Diego loved her? Surely she couldn’t have gotten that right. She wanted to hear him say the words, and so she’d imagined them. “There’s a big difference between thinking and knowing.”

Diego shrugged, his dark gaze impenetrable, and refused to commit himself one way or the other. That was when her lodestone, self-preservation, kicked in. She had to cut off her feelings or put up with what came next. “What exactly are you saying?” she pressed.

“That’s obvious, isn’t it? I don’t want this to end here.”

“On the river bank.” She tried to make light of it.

There was curve on Diego’s lips she couldn’t interpret. It wasn’t a smile or a smirk. It was a look that suggested she should know what he meant. But she didn’t, and it was easier to doubt than to believe. The gulf between hope and reality was too big even for her strong will to bridge. Biting back the stab of disappointment, she smiled and reached for her clothes.

He sprang up too. Maybe he was relieved. His actions were smooth and unconcerned as he dressed, though he pulled a face briefly at the extent of the button damage. There was no sign of him feeling the same turmoil she did.

But then he turned, and, cupping her chin, he made her look at him. “I know that face,” he said.

She recoiled, remembering that the last time she’d heard those words, they had come from the mouth of a slaver. She tried to speak and couldn’t move her lips. Remembered fear had returned. She wasn’t a hero, as Diego had suggested. She hadn’t felt brave when she was dragged into the doctor’s surgery by the thug. She’d been petrified and helpless. She’d been overconfident in the planning stages of her mission and had forgotten to add simple human emotion into the mix. She knew now how debilitating that could be, and how it could

stall a brain and reduce a young, fit body to a useless blob of Jell-O.