Then his lips met mine, barely touching, kissing my top lip, then the bottom, before claiming them fully. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me still as the kiss deepened, becoming an exploration that was intense and passionate and explosive. Once again electricity surged, filling the air, filling my flesh, until all that was left was this kiss and the power that surged between our bodies.
After a while, he pulled back, his breathing as quick as mine. “It seems we have two choices here,” he said softly, stepping closer and placing his hands on either side of my body. Not touching me, simply stopping me from moving—even though I had no desire to. “We could enjoy our meal first and delay this moment, or we could go upstairs and finish what the kiss has started.”
I smiled and trailed my hands up his body, enjoying the way his muscles reacted to even that lightest of touches. When I reached the top button of his shirt, I flicked it open, then did the same to the next one.
“Something to eat would be good,” I murmured, my gaze following the progress of my fingers as I undid more buttons, revealing the defined, muscular lines of his chest and stomach. “But you forgot to mention the third option.”
My gaze rose to his, and he said, almost lazily, “And that would be?”
“We could continue our discussion.”
He laughed softly and let his hand trail from the back of my neck and down my arm until his hand wrapped around mine. With one quick and gentle tug, I found myself pressed against the hardness of his body and then trapped in the prison of his arms. Not that I was complaining—not when every inch of me tingled with awareness of his closeness. And of the rampant readiness pressed so neatly against my stomach. Even through jeans, he was pretty damn impressive.
“And what, exactly, were we talking about?” he murmured, dropping a kiss on my forehead, then trailing them down either side of my face.
My breathing just about stopped when his mouth brushed mine again, but he didn’t linger, his butterfly kisses moving back up again.
“I wanted to know about the Aedh,” I somehow managed to say. “I wanted to know if perhaps you knew my father.”
“It is always possible,” he said, his gaze meeting mine as he pulled back a little. My skin mourned the loss of his lips, but the heated, sexual look in his eyes suggested it wouldn’t be mourning for long. “Although as I said, we tend to be singular rather than a community.”
“Except for the priests.”
“Except for the priests,” he agreed, then his lips came down on mine again and, for the longest time, there was no talking, no thinking, just enjoyment of this man and the incredible electricity of his kiss.
“Let’s resume this conversation upstairs,” he murmured eventually.
“What about the stew?” I glanced across to the stove as his fingers entwined mine and he tugged me forward. The jet was on low, so it was doubtful anything would burn. And even if it did, I really couldn’t have cared. Right now, my hunger for him was far greater than my need to eat.
“Right now,” he said, as he weaved through the kitchen then out into the rear of the dining room, “I couldn’t give a damn about the stew.”
The door at the back of the restaurant had handprint security. He pressed his free hand against it and, after a moment, the door clicked open. He stepped back and ushered me through, pressing his hand lightly against my spine as we began to climb the stairs side by side. The heat and rawness of him swirled around me, almost overriding the sweetness of jasmine drifting down.
“So what is your father’s name?” he asked as he opened the door at the top.
“Hieu.” I glanced around the room. It was an open kitchen, dining, and living area, the wall sparsely decorated and the furniture expensive but well used. A large vase of jasmine and roses dominated the dining table.
He guided me left, toward a small hall. “It’s not a name I know, but then, I haven’t been in Melbourne long. Is the filigree around your neck his?”
I nodded. “Why?”
“Because it is the type of filigree worn by priests, and they don’t exist anymore.”
“Well, he was alive twenty-eight years ago, and the priests died out long before then.”
“That’s true. I shall ask around, if you like.”
I flashed him an appreciative smile. “That would be great.”
He half shrugged. “You are aware, of course, that an Aedh only breeds when his death is near. He might well have gone from this world.”
Not likely, given the number of people who suddenly wanted to talk to him. But I held the comment back and simply nodded. “I know. I was just curious, that’s all.”
His bedroom was the last door on the right. The room was simply decorated in creams and brown, and there was little in the way of furniture—mainly because the bed was so large, it dominated the room.
“Aedh rarely choose to meet their offspring.” He closed the door behind him, then turned to face me. My mouth went dry with the sheer force of his desire. “Even if I find him, he may wish to have nothing to do with you.”
“I know.” I brushed my fingers underneath his shirt and slid them upward, pushing the material from his shoulders. He let it slip to the floor, then raised his hands, catching the end of my sweater and pulling it gently over my head. He tossed it to one side as his gaze slipped down my body, the heat of it making my nipples pucker even more fiercely.