Under a Blood Moon (Beaux Rêve Coven 2)

“As we can’t be sure others aren’t nearby, waiting to swoop in and claim you, we will remain close. You can return home, run your businesses. But the men will remain close.”

“What about your business?” Miren asked, raising her voice because she couldn’t imagine having three demons underfoot in her tiny stilted cabin. “Shouldn’t you all be returning to your jobs?”

“The men will be on a rotating schedule. Don’t worry about Vindlér Construction. Your comfort and safety is our highest priority.”

“It’ll be cozy,” Renner murmured.

“Crowded,” Miren bit out, uncomfortably aware of his fingers stroking closer to her sex.

“Maybe we’ll get a decent night’s sleep,” Elias said, his mouth stretching into a wide smile that said he expected his nights to be anything but quiet.

Renner moved his fingers upward, at last pressing against her sex. Just a teasing, light touch, but Miren froze, overcome for a moment with a sudden flash of heat. Her pulse quickened. So did her breaths.

Renner nuzzled her ear. “We can move you tonight.”

She jerked away, aware of all the interested gazes turning their way. “Don’t be silly. It’s dark. Morning will be soon enough.”

“Are you so eager then for me to join you in your bed?”

“Shhh!” she said, turning to give him a glare. “No one’s joining me in my bed.”

“I could give you a massage,” Mikkel said, taking a bite of his food and never glancing up. “I’m told I have very good hands.”

Beside her, Renner stiffened.

“A massage would be nice,” she said, the last word gritted out as Renner fingered her folds. “Maybe your brother could help you.”

Renner tsked beside her. “You do like playing with fire.”

A chill bit her spine. “No, actually, I don’t.” Her gaze locked with his. “I had a dragon once, and he nearly consumed me. It’s a lesson I’ve never forgotten.”

Renner held her gaze a moment longer, all trace of anger draining away. He withdrew his hand. “My apologies, darling.”

“I’m not your darling,” she whispered.

“Not yet.”

Renner eyed the bathroom door, frustration tightening his body. Miren had decided she would bathe before the mermen gave her a massage. And while the two men hurried off to gather fragrant oil and towels from the inn’s supply room, he sat in an armchair, waiting for Miren to appear in the doorway, hoping to have a chance to talk to her before the men returned.

She couldn’t go through with it. And if she did, he needed to reinforce his claim, make sure she didn’t experiment too intimately with the twins. Playful flirting was one thing—although the thought did make his stomach roil—but she needed to know he’d never permit her to have sex with them.

Not that he thought she’d do it with him watching, but he had pushed her, and she was stubborn. For someone whose element was water, she did have a hot temper.

His was unruly as well. The memory of their kiss, and then the way her body had betrayed her arousal at dinner, teased him to distraction. He had to have her. And soon. Or there would be violence.

He fisted his hand and thumped it against the padded arm of his chair. Miren knew he was the best choice. Why was she dragging her feet? And why toy with the two mermen? Was she trying to start a brawl? Did she want the three of them battling for the privilege of bedding her? Had she begun to think she really could have all three?

The hell with waiting. He stood and walked toward the locked door. He was a draugr. Why not use his abilities to his advantage? Show her the pleasure he could give her?

He placed his hands on the cool wood and closed his eyes, willing his body to relax. Water dripped from his forehead, from his fingers splayed on the white surface. A moment later, he lost the sense of sight and simply melted down the door, flowed beneath the tiny space between wood and tile and rippled toward the tub where she lay. When he sensed cool porcelain, he reformed, nude, since his clothing lay in a wet pile outside the bathroom. Droplets clung to his form, streamed from the strands of his hair as he stood over her at her head.

Glancing down her body, he felt a primal howl well up inside him. The scent of roses was nearly overpowering. Her eyes were closed, which allowed him a long, thirsty look. Her breasts floated, the tips wreathed with tiny fragrant bubbles. Her legs were drawn up so that only the pale knobs of her knees appeared above the foam. Her breaths were slow and even. She’d fallen asleep. Perfect.

Kneeling at the edge of the tub, he leaned toward her and lightly touched her temples, rubbing there and then tugging in his mind at the invisible thread that kept her consciousness anchored to her body until he followed the thin silver-light strand.

He landed on the prow of a boat bobbing softly on a still, blue sea. Sunlight beat down, so bright he had to shield his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is my dream. Get out.”