Page 22 of Foxin' Around

“Sweetheart—”

“I’m okay,” she rushed to assure him with a wobbly smile. “I wanted to know, so thank you.”

He slowly nodded, his gaze never shifting from her.

“Is it… is it safe to go outside now? Now that the rain has stopped.”

His lips curled and he nodded again. “Do you wish to enjoy some fresh air? We can go now if you like. So long as the sun shines brightly down, the lamia will keep to her dark burrow, and we will be left to our peace.”

Her expression relaxed and a genuine smile flitted at the corners of her mouth. “I would like that. But perhaps not the lake, if you don’t mind. I’ve been having weird dreams and would rather not be reminded of them. But the gardens would be lovely and a walk out to the meadow.”

“Then consider it done,” he murmured, taking her hand. He nodded to her cup with a warm smile. “Finish your drink while I change into something less unpleasant and then we can go.”

Krystal nodded and took a gulp of tea. “I should change too. You probably want your clothes back if you are ruining the ones you have,” she teased.

Syrix gripped her hand and shook his head. “Unnecessary. My clothing has never looked better than it does on you.”

He peered down at her, his smile growing at the way his tunic stretched a little snug across her breasts and his pants clung to her thighs. He had stitched the tail seam in the back so as to not give anything way and truthfully, they graced her ass in the finest vision he had ever seen. Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm and smiled against the smooth surface at her quick indrawn breath.

“I will return. Wait right here for me.”

She nodded, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and he grinned as he gently released her hand and stepped away. It was with a light step that he returned to his room, eager to begin the nextround in their game. His sweet little mate did not have a clue just how close to precipice of love she was standing. She just needed a little nudge, and he could not wait until she fell.

Chapter

Seventeen

Krystal gratefully breathed in the fresh air as she followed Syrix, the hem of his oversized tunic drawn up to hold the firewood she was gathering. The crisp smell of the air after the rain was wonderfully refreshing. Choosing that moment to renew their firewood, however, seemed like an odd choice as she glanced down at the soggy branches in her arms.

“Shouldn’t we wait to gather firewood? This stuff is too wet to burn,” she pointed out to him.

“It will dry,” Syrix replied as he lifted a sizeable branch onto his shoulder before turning his head to look back at her. “The sooner we get it into the woodshed, the sooner we can be prepared. We have used a lot of fuel these last several days.”

She sighed and picked up another large stick. At least there was no sign of the lamia with the sun shining so brightly overhead. If there was any trace at all, she was confident that Syrix would be aware of it, and he currently appeared to be not only relaxed but in a good mood. “That’s true. When you put it like that, this is perhaps the more reasonable way to start the day.”

So what if it made her uncomfortably damp and filthy. She grimaced at her borrowed fresh clothes in distaste, and Syrix chuckled at her.

“Do not worry, sweetheart. After we are all done playing outside, I will make sure that you can enjoy a long, uninterrupted bath.”

The corner of her mouth hitched, and she peeled a chunk of moss from one of the branches she held, playfully throwing it at him. The chucklehead barked with laughter and dodged safely out of the way, and though he dropped his branch in the process, when he turned toward her, his eyes were bright with merriment as he wagged a finger at her.

“Not fair. You fight dirty, female,” he scolded.

Krystal giggled and promptly threw a larger handful of moss, hitting him square in the face. “Sounds fair to me that we are both dirty!”

Syrix’s shoulders shook with laughter, and he swiped away the remnants of dirt and moss clinging to his face. His long robe shifted around his legs peculiarly, but he suddenly sidestepped, and the material dropped back into position.

It must have been caught on something.

Eyes gleaming, he growled playfully, and a squeal startled from her as she laughed, dropping her armload of branches to the ground, and whirled away. She didn’t know exactly what he intended but she was certain that it would involve her becoming far dirtier.

“No, no, no!” she shrieked breathlessly as he pounced, his arms closing around her and lifting her from the ground. “Your clothes! Remember, I’m wearing your clothes.”

How the hell had he caught her so fast when he’d been standing a good distance away?

Syrix’s breath fanned her ear and desire rushed through her far hotter than the pleasant waves of warmth and tingles ofpleasure she’d experienced cuddling with him on the couch. Her heart pounded with excitement as her feet left the ground and she was cradled against his lean, powerful body.

“And they cling to you admirably,” he growled. “But that will not stop me from punishing you.”

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