“What about cameras?” I ask. “Surely they’ve got security on the gate.”
“Rafe will have taken care of it,” Gray answers, surprising me by saying something that almost sounds positive about my personal knight. “He’s thorough.”
We park, and Eric pulls Jonathan from the car. The five of us make our way to the mansion, and I watch the shadows, waiting. I don’t feel anything, not right now, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.
We pause to part ways with Rafe and Gray at the terrace outside the doors. Rafe takes me aside, just for a moment. “Keep your phone on you. You do still have it, don’t you?”
I produce it, giving him a withering look.
“Call if you need me. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
Nervous, I glance around the darkened landscape. “Are you worried about something in particular?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s just hard for Jonathan to take care of you when you’re taking care of him.” He cuts me off when I open my mouth to protest. “Yes, I know you can take care of yourself. But everyone’s stronger in pairs—pairs with two healthy teammates.”
“I promise to call if I need you.”
Satisfied, he steps back.
Eric helps Jonathan up to the room. Thankfully, it’s late enough we don’t pass anyone in the halls.
Charles is on the other side of the door, just waiting for us to come inside. He yowls, beyond ticked that his dinner is several hours late.
Immediately, Eric scoops the cat into his arms. “Poor guy.”
“Yeah. Sounds like he had a really rough evening,” Jonathan snarks, heading for the couch.
I take his arm and redirect him toward the bed.
“I’ll take Charles for the night,” Eric says, stroking the cat’s back. “Let him unwind a little.”
Rolling my eyes, I make shooing motions with my hands. “Fine—go. His food is in my black case by the dresser.”
“I already stocked up, just in case.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m serious about that intervention, Bunny.”
Eric grins with the content kitty in his arms, but he pauses in the doorway. He glances at Jonathan, who’s already sprawled on the bed, dead to the world. “This is a rather cozy setup you’ve got here.”
I press my lips together, refusing to respond.
“Tell me something.” He leans in, his deep voice teasing. “If I get attacked next time, will you kiss me and let me share your bed too?”
“Good night, Eric.”
He laughs as he steps out the door. “Night, Maddie.”
After I flip the lock, I kick off my heels and groan. Too tired to change, I head to the couch.
“Stay with me,” Jonathan mumbles, apparently still awake.
I turn to face him, but I don’t answer. He must be half-delirious.
“I’m not in any shape to make a move on you,” he points out, prying his eyes open to watch me.
“Maybe I just don’t want to sleep with you, Griffon.”
He smiles, his lazy, exhausted gaze on mine. “Liar.”
And I am. All I want to do is to climb into the bed and stare at him all night to make sure he doesn’t stop breathing.
Even though I’m not sure it’s the greatest idea, I cross the room and crawl on the bed, slipping under the covers because I’m not going to freeze for the sake of modesty. Plus, we’re both dressed.
“Why are you so far away?” he mumbles.
I stare at his back for several moments before I scoot closer. Then, when he doesn’t promptly change his mind, I wrap my arm around his side and press my forehead against his shoulder blades. “I’m so sorry.”
He turns so he’s lying flat on his back, and then he slides his arm under me, tugging me to him. My nerves hum as I scoot in, my stomach pressed to his side, my head on his shoulder. It’s an intimate position—too intimate really, but I don’t care if he doesn’t. With my hand resting on his chest, I can feel each breath he takes and monitor the steady thrum of his heart under my palm.
My forehead is against his neck, touching skin to skin, but I’m too exhausted to care.
“Are you still nauseous?” I ask.
“Not really.” The words rumble through his chest. “I just feel like I was run over by a truck.”
“I panicked,” I say softly after several silent moments. “They attacked so fast, and I screamed instead of taking control of the situation.”
“No, that was me shrieking,” he teases. “You just thought you were the one making the racket.”
I smile against his shoulder. “You didn’t scream, and we both know it.”
“The wretched monster wrapped itself around your face,” he points out, closing his eyes. “That’s not your fault.”
“It was keeping me quiet,” I murmur. “So I couldn’t control it.”
I shudder at the thought, and Jonathan tucks me a little closer to his side.
What’s he doing?
“It didn’t want you to interfere while they tried to save you,” he murmurs.
“It’s a bit disturbing, isn’t it? That they’re that clever?”
Let’s not even mention the way they looked at me when I told them to leave. Dejected. Anguished.
It’s all bizarre and unsettling.
“It’s done now,” he says. “Don’t dwell on it.”
I move my hand over his chest in gentle circles, soothing myself as much as him.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Jonathan says, sounding like he’s about to drift off. “You’re a good friend, Madeline.”
My heart swells, making me feel all kinds of warm fuzzies. It’s a sweet moment, so of course I have to diffuse it.
“Eric’s a good friend too,” I murmur. “Would you cuddle with him?”
Jonathan lets out a laugh that turns into a groan. “Are you kidding? You know a man that large must be a bed hog.”
I grin and snuggle in closer, breathing him in. His normal scent is tinged with the healer’s disgusting concoction, but I don’t even care. I’m just glad he’s alive.
“Would you get the lights?” he asks, nearly asleep.
I flick them out with my magic, pull the covers up around us, and drift to the feel and sound of Jonathan’s rhythmic breathing.
***
Before I fully come awake, I remember the night before. Specifically, I remember falling asleep in Jonathan’s arms.
My eyes fly open, and I find the knight lying next to me, partially propped on his side, his head resting on his hand. He lost his shirt sometime during the night. “Morning.”
He looks well rested and healthy, while I probably look like death warmed over.
“No ghosts last night?” I ask, extremely conscious of possible morning breath.
“Not sure. We might have slept through the racket.”
I study him, feeling my cheeks growing hot. “I’ve never actually slept with anyone before.”
The Griffon arches an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean.”
Though I haven’t done that either.
“How do you feel?” I ask, slipping out of the covers, needing to put a little distance between us. Last night, it felt like friends connecting. This morning, it feels like…more.
Much more.
“I’m fine, though I woke up in the middle of the night and had to brush my teeth. Just what did that healer give me?”
I shake my head. “You don’t want to know.”
His eyes pass over me, taking in my wrinkled black dress and mussed hair. His gaze becomes hooded, and my stomach clenches.
“What?” I ask, self-conscious. I purposely avoid the mirror so I don’t have to look at myself.
“I’m trying to commit the moment to memory.” He lies back on the sheets, still taking me in. There’s the familiar teasing gleam in his eyes, the one that says he’s going to brush this off as something playful.
He stretches his hands over his head, showing off his well-m
uscled arms. The caramel of his warm skin is a juxtaposition against the stark white sheets, and it does funny things to my chest.
To distract myself, I point out, “You know, yesterday all I had to do was fleetingly think of your hand on my leg, and you darted so fast, I’m surprised you didn’t trip over your own feet.”
“Why don’t you come here and see if I dart today?”
Back to the bed. Back to him.
“I’d rather stay here.”
A slow, wicked, beautiful smirk stretches across his face. “So many lies, Madeline.”
“You’ve got to stop that.”
“Or you could just tell me the truth in the first place and save us both a little trouble.”
“What happened to your clothes?”
“I changed when I got up to brush my teeth.”
“Into…pajama pants?”
His smirk grows. “Naturally.” When I’m still hesitant to come back to him, he jerks his chin, motioning for me to join him.
I only have so much restraint.
My nerves hum as I walk back and crawl over the fluffy bedding toward him, sitting on my knees and looking down at him when I reach my side of the bed.
Not that it’s my side per se. Because then it would stand to reason that there was a his side, and I’m absolutely not ready for that.
Jonathan rolls to his left, facing me, once again propping himself up with his arm. I try not to stare at his bare torso—I really do. But, I mean, it’s right there. Very distracting.
“I don’t do relationships,” he says.
I pull my eyes to his. “That seems to be a reoccurring theme with the team.”
“It’s difficult when we travel—that’s the reason the guys don’t find a girl to play house with. But it’s not my reason.”
Realizing he’s about to tell me something important, I hold my breath.
“You asked how I manage intimacy when I can read a woman’s thoughts, remember?”
I nod.
“I don’t.”
It takes several moments for the words to soak in, and then I frown. “You…don’t?”
He shakes his head. “I date, I flirt—absolutely. I’ll brush a girl’s arm, see what she’s thinking, usually do what I can to make her feel special and valued. I listen to her, respond in a way she needs. But I don’t kiss. I don’t touch. I don’t get close.”
I think of our kiss on the balcony, when I surprised him, of how still he became.
“Isn’t that…lonely?” I soften my stance on the bed, pulling my legs out from under me and crossing them.
He smiles, but it’s distant, tinged with something achingly sad. “It’s better than the alternative. Believe me when I say a person’s thoughts aren’t always complimentary. They shift, bounce to things you’d never expect. At best, they’re distracting, at worst, they’re on another guy.”
“Jonathan.”
“I tried to block it out when I was younger—eighteen, nineteen. I was training with the guild, feeling pretty cocky and sure of myself. I thought I could manage it.” He laughs once, just a quick release of air. “I was wrong.”
A question burns in my brain, but I don’t dare ask. I nibble my lip, studying him.
“Just spit it out,” he says wryly, and I look down to make sure he’s not touching me. But his hand is a safe distance away, which means he’s only reading my face.
“Have you ever…?”
Enjoying my discomfort, the Griffon smirks. “Have I what?”
“Been with a woman?” I swear my cheeks are on fire.
Slowly, he pushes himself up, matching my cross-legged stance, and leans forward. “No.”
My mouth falls open, though I quickly shut it. That’s what Rafe was talking about.
Jonathan’s smirk grows, but there’s something self-deprecating about it. “Needless to say, that’s not gossip we need to be spreading.”
“You’re not a man slut,” I whisper.
His eyes flash with amusement. “I’m not a man slut.”
“You’re practically a nun.”
He tilts his head, silently asking me if I need to do this.
“Like…super pure,” I continue, grinning. “Virginal even. Like a blushing bride in white.”
The Griffon rolls his eyes, and I’m thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment when something strikes me that doesn’t seem quite so humorous.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I give him a look, trying to tease to hide my actual disappointment. “You only like me because I can give you silence.”
“No.” Jonathan glances away, laughing softly, shaking his head. “That’s not why I like you.” He then meets my eyes, the playful glint falling away. “And I do like you, Madeline. Very much.”
I bite my lip, sternly telling myself I’m going to stay on my side of the bed—no, not mine. This side of the bed.
Whatever.
From the way the corner of his mouth twitches, I believe he’s enjoying my turmoil. However, the amusement slowly fades from his face as his eyes lock on mine. “But your magic is why I allowed myself to touch you. And I wish I hadn’t.”
Without permission, he grasps my waist and pulls me onto his lap. The move startles me, and my hands fall to his bare arms as I steady myself. His skin is warm, smooth, kissable. I imagine trailing my lips down his shoulders.
Jonathan groans under his breath, and I realize he saw the thought.
“Why do you wish you hadn’t touched me?” I ask, crossing my arms to break the connection.
He leans in close. “Because now I know what it’s like to kiss you, to wake with you next to me.”
We have to be so careful with the way we touch. My legs are bare, but they’re over his pajama-covered legs. His hands are still at my dress-protected sides. My arms stay crossed so I don’t give in to the temptation of running my palms down his skin, running my fingers over his defined biceps, but they itch to touch him.
My eyes move to his arm. There’s no sign of yesterday’s wound. “The healer did a good job,” I say.
Jonathan follows my gaze and flexes, testing the muscles. “I’m a little stiff, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“You’ll probably be achy for a few days,” I reason. “From the poison.”
Again, guilt hits me. It’s swift and debilitating. I close my eyes, trying to block out the memory of Jonathan fading so quickly.
“Hey,” he says softly, risking a knuckle to my cheek. “Stop that.”
But I can’t. And I also can’t ignore that this feels like the start of something—something we need to discuss.
“What are we doing, Jonathan?” I ask, sighing to myself as sense comes barreling in, destroying my bliss like a bull crashing through a china cabinet. “What is this?”
He doesn’t answer right away. A shadow crosses his face, and I can feel him mentally withdrawing, putting a fence between us—a friendly fence, a little white picket one that’s easy to chat through. But it's a fence all the same. He stays on his side; I stay on mine.
“We can’t do this, can we?” I whisper. “Not while I’m on the team.”
“It’s impossible to create a balance.”
And the team means the world to Jonathan. I’ve only been around for a little while, and even I can see it. I won’t take that from him.
Even if that means I have to crawl off his lap and pretend the last few days haven’t chiseled away at my heart.
I eye him, wondering what our group dynamic is going to be like. It’s not going to be easy to watch him flit from girl to girl like he has in the past, not when I’ve developed a teeny crush on the handsome Griffon. I frown as I remember the girls from Tahoe.
“You’re thinking awfully hard about something,” he says.
“I have a question.”
He nods, silently telling me to go for it.
“So you didn’t sleep with Bikini Girl Number One or Blonde and Bubbly from the brewery?”
I’m almost positi
ve the girls had real names, but they weren’t nearly as easy to remember as the ones I gave them.
“No, I didn’t sleep with them.” A slow grin builds on Jonathan’s face, one that makes me kind of want to slap him. “You were jealous.”
“I was not.”
“You were, or you wouldn’t remember, and you wouldn’t have cared. What names did you give Eric’s dates?”
When I pause, he raises an eyebrow, the man looking too wicked for his own good.
Crossing my arms, I give him a stern look. “That’s not the point.”
“Well, I suppose we’re even because I purposely interrupted you and Gray,” he says bluntly.
I stare at him, confused by the abrupt change of subject. “What?”
“The night Trent first tried to kidnap you, before you met Rafe for dinner, I interrupted the two of you on purpose. I couldn’t stand the idea of you with him.”
It was right after I confronted Finn about the fictitious assignment. I asked Gray to kiss me—dared him to kiss me. He happily complied, but before it could go too far, Jonathan came into the room, waving my phone, telling me I had work to do.
He did it on purpose?
“You did it for the good of the team?” I question slowly, licking my lips.
The Griffon shakes his head, his chocolate eyes intense. “For my good alone.”
I straddle him, waiting until he makes me get off, my heart twinging. I like Jonathan; he likes me. And he’s not a player.
Except for Gray’s new militant rule and the fact that I possess Obsidian magic, there’s no reason we couldn’t give this thing between us a try. But those are two massive hurdles.
After a minute, Jonathan pulls me from my thoughts. “As much as I hate to say it, we still need to inform Gray that Jenna disappeared.”
I nod and climb from his lap, accidentally/totally on purpose rubbing my legs against his, making him groan.
“I take it you’re stealing the bathroom first?” I ask as he tosses the covers back and heads that way.
“I’m taking a shower.” He looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “A cold one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Before we get into the assignment, I think it would be prudent to restate the rule that there is to be no dating between members of the team,” Gray says, addressing us all from in front of the balcony door in our room in the mansion.
Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2) Page 17