Page 58 of The Seeker
“Not shy. Simply not… rude.”
“I will back off for now,” Patiala said. “Because when you and this man go searching for the Wolf, you won’t have any chaperones. We’ll see what happens when you can’t keep him at a distance.”
As always, Meera was very afraid her mother was correct.
She foundRhys in the guest cottage, his computer open on the small kitchen table and notebooks spread across the bed.
“I didn’t wait for you,” he said. “I’ve been researching historic birds of Southern Louisiana, and I believe the distinctive call I heard was the whooping crane.”
“Is that helpful?” Meera sat in the other chair, watching him sort through his thoughts at lightning speed. “I don’t know much about birds.”
“The cranes were considered nearly extinct in the wild until recently, but there have been projects that tracked their historic range and new efforts to seed wild populations are following that.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, shuffling through a notebook with one hand while typing with the other. “I’ve found some research projects online that give some interesting clues about the areas where the cranes historically nested in the Atchafalaya Basin. It gives us a starting point.”
“That’s a good lead.”
“Combine that with oral history reports—I want to focus on crying woman or ghost legends—and I believe we can narrow down the geographic area significantly. It’s not as precise as wildlife mapping, but it’s an avenue to explore.”
There was something very seductive about watching a man work at a job he was passionate about, and Rhys had dived into the mystery of finding the Wolf headfirst.
“Your soul must remain your own.”
She was fighting against herself. Part of her wanted to keep her distance—keep a sense of control over her heart—but the other parts…
She’d told her mother the truth: she didn’t like the idea of a predetermined fate. Too much of her life was already predetermined.
But then there was Rhys.
Irritating, persistent, relentlessly curious Rhys with a soul voice that soothed her, a mind that called to her own, and a body that woke parts of her she kept under very strict control.
Desire equaled weakness, which was why she only took it in small doses. Doses she could handle. Men she could control.
She wouldn’t be able to control him.
“Do you have any maps?” He gripped a fistful of hair as he clicked his keyboard, a frown wrinkling the space between his eyebrows. “I need a large map of the basin. Topographical if that’s possible.” He stood and looked around the cottage as if expecting a topographical map of Southern Louisiana to magically appear.
Meera rose and walked across the room. “I don’t have a map.”
“Damn.”
She stepped in front of him and put her palms on his chest.
Rhys froze. “Meera?”
She could feel his heart beating under her right palm, the firm muscles of his chest rising and falling with his breath. He was warm and vibrant with energy. Heaven above, he made herwant. She lifted her shields a fraction, just enough for the resonance of his soul voice to hum in the back of her mind.
She closed her eyes and let his voice fill her. The sun poured through the window, warming her skin as a breeze licked along her neck. She lifted her face and leaned into his voice and scent.
Rhys’s lips touched Meera’s, and he was the only thing.
The scribe’s mouth was slow and deliberate. His hand came to the nape of her neck and pulled her closer. He placed a firm hand at the small of her back and pressed in. She was enveloped in his scent and touch and sound. The outside world dropped away, and she was transported to a place of sense and heat.
The slow glide of his mouth against hers didn’t stop as he swung her around and pushed her against a wall. He reached down and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her so they were face-to-face. He held her with ease, angling his mouth to taste her more thoroughly.
For the first time in a very long time, Meera didn’t think. She took. She took his hunger as her own, stretching into it as the magic twined between them, amplifying her need into his. It was a crescendo of senses. Rhys reached down and cupped her bottom, pressing her into his body as a low groan left her throat.
There you are.
The thought was unmistakable, thrilling, and alarming, like seeing the flash of a face familiar only in dreams.
