Page 94 of The Truth About Myths
His voice, muffled by sleep, reached her. "Good morning."
Isabel slid the key into her robe pocket. Her gaze strayed to the door. If she darted to the exit, she could lock him inside before he chased her.
"Come back to bed."
Isabel turned slowly.
Henrique leaned on his side, naked beneath the sheets. The white cotton contrasted with his bronzed skin. He lifted a hand, palm up. His gaze was open and seductive. The memory of their night flooded her with heat.
Pressing her lips together, she cursed the light invading the tower. What if she closed the shutters? But it would still be day, and her country would still be at risk. “Our night is over.” Her voice wavered.
He rose, his long, long legs hoisting his masculinity until he towered a head over her. Completely at ease with his nakedness, he walked until only her robe separated her from his warm skin.
Delicately, he placed both his hands over her shoulders and kneaded softly. "What if we made our night last forever?"
"Forever?" Isabel gasped, her gaze delving into his. A part of her wrested free and fluttered inside her chest, bumping against her ribcage. A part she had learned to guard since her infancy, a part she had forgotten existed.
He caressed her forearm and took her hand in his. He kissed her palm and placed it above his chest. His heartbeat thudded, alive and insistent. She could tell him about her plans… But how? The mere mention of Alfonso's name had put him in a rage. A sinking sensation spread to her chest, weighting her limbs. Myths would come true before he understood.
"It is not possible." She glanced away, staring at their rumpled bed.
"Nothing is impossible for Zeus." He smiled against her palm and licked.
Isabel's sigh came from deep inside her, a place only he reached.
"I'm not a woman from myth, and you are not a god." She touched his cheek. The grain of his stubble titillated her fingertips. "We are mortals. Would you not tire of me? You said it yourself… Monogamy is not in our nature."
Isabel turned away from him. She could leave his spell.
Henrique brushed his lips against her palm. When he looked at her, the blue fire was hers alone, hypnotic. There were secrets hidden inside its walls, secrets that whispered to her, and only her. Against her will, she lifted her chin, searching for his kiss.
"It happens infrequently, mind you," he said as he nipped her earlobe. "But you might as well learn of it now."
"Hmm?" She could not form words with him drawing circles over her forearms.
"There is the rare occasion when I am wrong."
He pulled her robe’s cinch and bared her to him completely.
The brush of naked skin against naked skin immolated her denial. When he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to bed, she told herself they deserved another night, and she wasn't ignoring her duty… The housekeeper's son would come only tomorrow.
And then he bit the indenture of her waist, and her thoughts scattered.
Chapter 36
"If the butterfly wings its way to the sweet light that attracts it, it's only because it doesn't know that the fire can consume it."Giordano Bruno
KneelingbehindtheTurkishbath the count had the foresight to install in the tower, Henrique washed Isabel's hair. The heat had relaxed her to the point of sensual languidness, but he was far from fooled. She had been about to flee this morning. The thought brought an emptiness to his chest, and he kissed the top of her head to dispel it.
She allowed him to pleasure her freely, but her mind was still locked behind a wall, unbreachable. While they talked about science and myths, and she asked questions about lovemaking that made him ravenous, they spoke not about the future.
But he wanted to.
It would take more than words to convince her, especially since he had hammered the point of infidelity ad nauseam. But there was never a woman he could not conquer. Granted, Isabel was different—cunning and intelligent, strong. Henrique glanced at the sunrays shining through the window. Not even she could stay immune to the outdoor wooing he had planned.
She relaxed her head over the tub's rim, and a contented smile left her lips. "I think Sophie will be miffed you stole her duties."
"Miffed? She is probably dancing up and down the stairs, relieved to the roots of her French braids."
