Tempting the Dryad Page 2

  Now she touched his arm, her fine dark brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She tilted her head, her eyes knowing and a little sad.

  His chest squeezed. He was afraid that despite his good intentions, he’d hurt her anyway. “I shouldn’t have come. Not today.”

  “I hear Queen Cleia’s going to have a baby.”

  “Yeah.” His voice was gruff. He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, she is.”

  “Tiago. This is me, Alesia. I know you’re upset.”

  He glanced away. “She and Dion are so damn happy. The whole clan is so damn happy. And I—” He grimaced. “I want to rip someone’s head off. Some brother, huh?”

  She regarded him steadily.

  Foolish woman. She should push him out of the tree and conceal herself so well he’d never find her. Because he was this close to shoving her up against the trunk and sinking himself into her, deep and hard, whether she wanted it or not. Anything to mute the pain, the clawing need to show Cleia and Dion what he could do…if he chose.

  When Alesia spoke, her voice had a thread of steel. “You’re a good man, Tiago do Rio.”

  That thin line tethering him to good behavior snapped. Alesia might think she knew him, but she didn’t. He’d held back, careful to show her only his best self.

  He came onto his knees and leaned into her, allowing his barely leashed lust to seep into his voice. “You think so, querida? Why don’t I show you just how good I am?”

  He brought his hand to her nape, curving his fingers around the slim column a bit too firmly. Not enough to bruise—but enough so she’d have to work to escape him. He wanted to frighten her, even as he felt a spike of shame. He shoved it aside, allowing the restless black beast to rise to the surface.

  Her big golden-brown eyes grew even larger. A pulse leapt in the delicate skin beneath his fingers.

  When he spoke, he let a little of the darkness into his voice. “Talk to me, Lesia.” He stroked his thumb down her throat. “I know you want me. Say yes. I’ll make it so good…”

  She swallowed convulsively, a deer caught in headlights.

  His lips twisted. Deus, he was a bastard. She was afraid of him.

  And even though the beast reveled in that, the better part of him—the part that still fought the darkness—was ashamed. He was opening his fingers to release her when she touched a moist pink tongue to her lower lip.

  His entire body went rigid. It seemed even the forest stilled, waiting for her answer.

  “All right.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alesia knew the instant Tiago stepped onto her island. The forest kept her informed of any visitors, but with him, she always knew. Something changed in the air, stirred within herself.

  It had been over a month since he’d last visited. He’d told her then he was going on another mission. Goddess, she dreaded them. He left abruptly to return weeks later with a set face and burning eyes. He never said where he’d been or what he’d been doing, and she didn’t ask.

  After the first couple of weeks she found herself walking the beach, scanning the river for him. When she realized what she was doing, she gave herself a shake and headed back to work. Spring was a busy time for a dryad. Not only was she cultivating her own garden, she was inspecting every tree on the island, making sure they’d come through the winter undamaged and disease-free and that the forest and its creatures maintained a healthy balance.

  But she couldn’t help worrying. If Tiago was hurt, would anyone at Rock Run think to tell her? Her hands tightened on a sapling she was nursing back to health. It could be months before she heard. No, if she wanted to find out how Tiago was doing, she’d have to go to the Rock Run base.

  She swallowed sickly.

  Because she did not want to go to Rock Run. Fada males were dangerous, the assassins and mercenaries of the fae world. Even the women were scary. Alesia had as little to do with them as possible.

  But for Tiago, she’d do it. She wasn’t the swimmer the river fada were, but as a dryad, she could ’port herself to any tree within a five-mile radius, and from there she had only to walk along Rock Run Creek and a sentry would investigate. No one got close to a fada base without their permission.

  She’d almost made up her mind to it when she sensed him on the island.

  The trees passed the news, a whisper in their leaves. He’s here, he’s here.

  Her heart leapt. She dashed through the rain to her oak. Scurrying up the trunk, she settled onto a branch and willed her skin to change color and harden until she blended, chameleon-like, into the bark. It was a game the two of them played. Before Tiago, she hadn’t even known the fada had a playful side.

  His long stride brought him through the woods with the silent grace of a big cat. He reached her tree and called up to her, and she stifled a giggle and hurriedly finished the change.

  Now she blinked at him. Had she heard him right? She’d wanted him for so long, had pictured him doing just this during the long winter nights while the forest slept as she kept a solitary vigil.

  She curled her fingers into her palms. Please Goddess, don’t let this be another dream.

  But he was very real, very male. She could breathe his rich scent, hear his inhale as he waited for her response. See the water dampening his wavy black hair, carelessly pulled back and tied with a leather thong. Gaze into his startling silver-blue eyes, so intent on her that she felt his gaze like a touch upon her face.

  He leaned closer, dominating her with his body. He’d grown taller and broader in the five years since they’d first met. At twenty-one, he’d still been in late adolescence, since fada and fae matured later than humans. But he was a man now, with a warrior’s wide shoulders and hard, defined muscles. A sexy strip of dark hair arrowed down his abdomen to the waistband of his shorts and one large bicep was encircled by a black Celtic knot tattoo.

  “Talk to me, Alesia.” His thumb caressed her neck. “I know you want me.”

  She moistened her lips. Around them the rain sheeted down, but the oak sheltered them from all but a few stray drops, enclosing them in their own private world. Blood pounded in her ears, slow and heavy.

  “All right.”

  He rocked back on his heels as if she’d slapped him. “All right?”

  She swallowed. Okay, that wasn’t the reaction she’d been looking for.

  She’d told herself that if all he wanted was a friend, then she was okay with that. But she’d been fooling herself.

  Because Goddess, she wanted him. For Tiago, she just might beg. “Yes,” she said more strongly. Please…

  He set a hand on her thigh and leaned closer. “I’m not sure you understand. I want you, Lesia.” His voice thickened. “Hard and fast. Slow and deep. I want you pleading for me to take you—any way I want. Do you think you can take that? Because if not, tell me now and I’ll leave this island and never come back.”

  A fine tremor ran through her. Her stomach knotted, a tangle of want and need and yes, a touch of fear. He was a large, powerful man and she’d seen firsthand how brutal the fada could be.

  The hand on her thigh tightened, then released. “Hell. Don’t be afraid. I’d never—look, I’m in a godawful mood today. I should never have come.” He started to withdraw.

  “Don’t leave.” She caught his arm, knowing that if he left now he’d honor his promise and never return. She’d never have another chance with him.

  “Te quero,” she said in the language of his clan. She didn’t have the Gift of tongues like some fae, but he’d taught her some basic phrases. “I want you too. So, yes. I’m saying yes to all that.”

  His nostrils flared. Then his lips curved in a slow smile. “All right, then.”

  He slid his fingers into her hair and brought his mouth to hers in a kiss. Not the hard, demanding kiss she’d expected, but slow and sweet. Rubbing his lips over hers. Sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips and then into her mouth. Tasting her as i
f she were a rare and wonderful treat.

  She made a sound low in her throat and sucked on his tongue. His breath quickened and his bicep hardened beneath her hand.

  He slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss. His fingers tightened on the base of her skull while his other hand moved to her breasts, weighing and caressing them, pinching her nipples into hard points beneath the damp cotton dress.

  Desire stabbed from her breasts to her womb. He slid his hand down her abdomen to cup her mound through the dress. She moaned and pressed against him. “Tiago. Please—”

  He rotated the heel of his hand over just the right spot. She sucked in a breath and he chuckled darkly. “You like that, baby?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  But she wanted to touch him, too. She ran her hands over his body, exploring the hard muscles of his shoulders and back. Smooth olive skin, slick and cool from the rain. Her fingers followed the dark trail of hair to his waistband, dipped inside. The muscles of his stomach jumped.

  “Alesia.” He gripped her shoulders and drew a jagged breath. “By the gods, I need this. Need you. Watching the two of them together…it drives me mad.” She briefly closed her eyes. Even now, he was thinking of Cleia. She’d swear the sun fae queen had Siren blood, the way men made asses of themselves over her—even now, when she was happily mated.

  “Hell.” Tiago passed a hand over his face. “Sorry. I—”

  She stopped his words with a kiss. “Forget her,” she said against his lips.

  She waited until he gave a jerky nod and then she pulled back enough to undo the metal button of his waistband. She trailed her fingers across the firm brown flesh. His breath sucked in and she smiled. Right here, right now, he was hers, not Cleia’s, and she was going to make the most of it.

  “If you want me”—she slanted him a look—“then have me.”

  His gaze was on her hand, inching its way lower. His throat worked. “I shouldn’t,” he said without much conviction.

  “No?” She took hold of his zipper and eased it down. His cock sprang free, darkly flushed and eager. She encircled it with her thumb and first finger. He was hot and hard beneath her palm. She worked him slowly. “This is what you came for, isn’t it?”

  “Damn it, Alesia.” He caught her wrist. “You’re not making this easy. I came to see you. Not for this.”

  “No?” She squeezed him. “But you want it. Or was that little speech about how much you want me just talk?”

  His lashes lowered, forming dark fans over his cheekbones. Then he growled and reached for her. “Come here.”

  He shifted their positions so he was against the trunk with her on his lap. He speared his fingers in her hair and drew her head back to expose her throat. She swallowed noisily and his nostrils flared.

  “I want you.” He skimmed his mouth down her throat and nipped the sensitive skin at the base. “God, I want you.”

  Hot liquid spread through her veins, settled in her belly with a low, throbbing ache. He licked the small wound and her eyes closed in pleasure.

  He brought his mouth to her ear, tracing the delicate whorls with his tongue, tugging gently on the small gold hoop that adorned her earlobe. Her breath caught and she squirmed in his lap. He inhaled sharply and she grinned.

  “Something’s poking me, fada.” She wiggled her bottom again.

  He clamped a hand on her thigh, holding her still. “You”—he nipped her earlobe—“look like one of those naughty fairies in the human storybooks. One who plays pranks like stealing your shoes or tying your hair into knots while you’re asleep.”

  She let her head fall back against his shoulder. “Maybe I feel naughty.”

  He pushed her hair away from her neck and pressed small, biting kisses to the turn of her shoulder. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, his mouth warm against her skin. “I like naughty fairies. It makes me want to…punish them a little.”

  His hand had somehow made its way under her skirt. He pinched her clit, just hard enough. Sensation raced through her. She stifled a moan. Goddess, she wanted this.

  He was looking down at her, mouth curved in a little smile. She ran her tongue over her lower lip, enjoying how his eyes darkened. “I—I’d better be careful then,” she managed to say.

  He nudged her thighs further apart. “Open for me.”

  When she obeyed, he pushed up her skirt and eyed her mound. “No panties, hm? You are bad. Who were you expecting?”

  She met his eyes. “You, Tiago.”

  His lips curved. “Good answer.”

  He worked her skirt up further, baring her to the waist. “Ah…pretty. So damn pretty.”

  He dipped his finger into her and then out again, circled her aching sex, building her arousal in slow, knowing increments. Way too knowing, as far as she was concerned. But then, in the past few years, Tiago had had more women than she cared to think about. If he couldn’t have Cleia, he’d apparently decided to work his way through the available fada females—and a good number of humans as well.

  His other hand tightened in her hair, bringing her close so he could kiss her, hard and deep, his tongue moving in time with his fingers until she was dizzy with arousal. A gust of wind spattered them with rain. His mouth moved to her shoulder, tonguing a stray drop. He trailed his lips over her collar bone and then sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh at the turn of her neck, slowly, gently, and with unmistakable possessiveness.

  A thrill shuddered down her spine. She gripped his shoulders. “Tiago. I—” Her voice was high and needy in her ears.

  Suddenly, there was a scrabbling in the tree below them. Fausto heaved himself onto a nearby branch and launched into a scold. Tiago muttered a curse and jerked her dress down over her thighs.

  Alesia looked dazedly from him to the irate otter. “Fausto? What—”

  Tiago raised a hand. “Okay, okay,” he said in Portuguese. “I’m sorry, all right? But we’re busy, damn it.”

  Alesia blinked. “Was he waiting in the rain all this time?”

  “It won’t hurt him,” Tiago muttered. But he was careful to switch to English so that Fausto wouldn’t understand. “He’s a fucking otter. His fur is waterproof.”

  Alesia pushed off his lap and crouched beside Fausto. “You poor thing,” she said in her rudimentary Portuguese. “We’re so sorry. But aren’t you a clever one?” She smoothed a hand over the otter’s damp head. “I didn’t know you could climb trees—and so high, too.”

  Fausto unleashed another round of infuriated chatter. Alesia didn’t have to understand otter to realize he was complaining that he only had to climb trees when his so-called friends deserted him.

  Behind her Tiago swore under his breath. “I said I was sorry.”

  Alesia scratched Fausto behind the ears. “Don’t be cross, belo. Here, have a treat.” She offered him a bit of the dried fish she kept in a container for him.

  The otter took it in both paws and gobbled it down. Mollified, he rubbed his head against her leg. Tiago growled, a low, feral sound.

  Both she and Fausto started. The otter cast Tiago a look, and then back at her.

  He muttered an apology and with a courtly nod to Alesia, began making his way back down to the ground. It was hard going—she could hear him chittering grumpily to himself, and once there was a thud that vibrated through the whole tree. She caught her breath, but Fausto would be insulted if she offered to carry him down. Besides, at twenty-some pounds, he wasn’t exactly a lightweight.

  Tiago remained against the trunk, long legs stretched before him, regarding her through hooded eyes. He’d pulled his fly together to cover himself, but the air was thick with unsatisfied desire.

  She shot him a rueful look. She knew how he felt; her breasts were full and tender and there was an empty ache between her thighs.

  “Frigging otter has a crush on you,” Tiago said.

  “You think?” she asked, charmed. “Well, he’s gone now.”

  She started back to him, but he looked
away. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  She watched, stunned, as he rose to his feet and zipped up his shorts. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah. You’re a friend, Lesia. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Why not? I want it. You want it. We’re both unmated. I don’t see the problem.”

  “Because, damn it. You mean something to me. I can’t do it with you. Not when I’m in lo—” He broke off and shook his head.

  Something twisted deep in her chest. “I see.”

  “Hell, Lesia. I’m sor—”

  “Don’t.” She came to her feet as well. She could take anything but him apologizing. “Just—don’t.”

  Tiago scraped a hand through his wavy black hair. “I’m sorry. Maybe you don’t want to hear that, but I am.”

  She gave a hard swallow. Then she lifted her chin. Because when it came down to it, she was too proud to beg. “I understand—and why should you be sorry? You can’t help how you feel.”

  To her horror, hot tears pricked her eyes. She sucked in a breath and leapt to the branch below, blindly making her way back to the ground. Tiago’s daffodils drooped under the heavy rain, their bright heads bowed. She knuckled the tears away and stared at the flowers as he dropped to the forest floor behind her.

  “Alesia—” He reached for her and then brought his hand back to his side. “I’ll see you. Okay?”

  She closed her eyes. Then she stretched her lips into a smile and turned to face him. “Yeah, sure.” When he still didn’t move, she said, “I’m okay. Really.”

  “All right.” He gave a jerky nod and strode out of the clearing, the daffodils shivering in his wake.

  Fausto appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. He rose up on his hind legs to gaze after Tiago with an expression of complete disgust that would’ve been comical if she wasn’t feeling so bad. She crouched down to wrap her arms around him and nuzzle his neck. He made a comforting rumble deep in his throat.

  “Adeus, belo,” she said over the constriction in her chest. “Come visit any time—you don’t have to wait for Tiago. Compreende?”