Page 62 of The Silent
Kyra was hisreshon. A soul created to match his own. A gift of heaven and the truest mate in every sense. Her soul would feed his own. His touch would soothe her, and his voice would resonate the most clearly in her mind. Always—for the rest of his life—she would be hisotherhalf.
Profound gratitude filled his heart, and a prayer fell from his lips in the OldLanguage:
“I give thanks to theCreator
For in my heart I havefound
The other half of mybeing
My searchisover
My soul iscomplete.”
Leo walked through the silent forest, nodding at each of the Grigori who stood watch among thekareshtacottages. Clad in deep saffron robes, Niran’s men looked like monks and bore the intricateSak Yanttattoo marks Sura had given them. But every face, no matter how calm, had the determined look of awarrior.
He climbed Kyra’s steps and opened her door, toeing off his shoes before he entered. A lamp was burning in the corner of the room, and Kyra’s eyes flickered open when he closed the doorbehindthem.
She murmured, “We’reback.”
“And you’re exhausted,” he said. “But do you want to clean up before you get in bed? I can getwater.”
“My feet…” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s water in thecorner.”
Leo set her down on the bed and took off her sandals. Her feet were dusty from the dirt and gravel paths through the temple and the forest, so he walked to the corner and poured some water into the large bowl on the nightstand. He took it to her, then placed her feet in the coolwater.
“What are youdoing?”
“Washingyourfeet.”
Her cheeks turned delightfully red. “You don’t have todothat.”
“Iwantto.”
Leo brought the pitcher to the side of her bed along with a lump of fragrant soap and a towel he found hanging in thecorner.
“Pull up your dress,” he said, kneeling at her feet. “Just alittle.”
Kyra slowly pulled the sundress up to her knees, baring her ankles and calves to his gaze. Leo’s pulse picked up and he hardened, but he ignored his reaction and poured the water over her legs, following the path of the clear liquid as it ran over her shapely calves, caressed her ankles, and fell quietly into the ceramic basin. He picked up the soap and dipped it in the water, lifting his eyes to hers as he ran his hands up and down her legs, washing the dust and grime of the day fromherskin.
Kyra said nothing, but her lips were flushed. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath as she watched him. Leo took his time, running the soap over every inch of her skin, slipping his fingers behind her knees to ease her foot up before he traced the lines of her legs down her shins and around her ankles. He stroked the arch of her foot, and her toes curled in his palm before he washed them too. He massaged her ankles and her calves, easing the tension from the muscle there with longstrokes.
Her skin was soft and smelled of jasmine. The oil in the soap shimmered on the surface of the water as he tipped the water pitcher over her legs again, rinsing the suds from her skin before he lifted each foot and dried it with the soft towel. He pushed the basin to the side and placed her clean feet on his thighs before he closed his eyes. He put his forehead to her knees and kissed her skin, hugging her legs to hischest.
“Leo,you—”
“Shh.” His breath warmed her knees. “This isenough.”
“I want to wash you too,” she saidquietly.
Erotic images bombarded his mind. He wanted to bite her knees and kiss the soft skin of her inner thighs. He wanted to spread her legs and search for the lush scent that tormented him. He wanted to cover her with his body, invade her heat, and find release. He imagined Kyra wet and naked, pouring water over him in the bath. He would circle her waist with his hands, lick at her belly, dip histongue…
His erection was so hard it waspainful.
“Not tonight,” he said, his voice grating in thesilence.
Leo stood and lifted Kyra’s legs over and onto the bed. “Do you need tochange?”
She nodded. “My nightgown is hanging on the peg by thewashstand.”
