Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

His grin was teasing. “Would you like me to create a storm? We could make love in the rain.”

“We can find the others and pretend there’s safety in numbers,” Tempest suggested firmly, ignoring the way her body went into meltdown at his outrageous suggestion. “I can see which of us is the practical one, and it isn’t you.” She tugged at his hand, leading him back toward the camp.

He followed her for a few minutes in puzzled silence. Finally, curious, he cleared his throat. “Tempest? Where exactly is it that we are going? Not that I mind-I will follow wherever it is you wish us to go-but to my recollection, this trail winds around a rocky ravine. It is unsafe.”

She could feel the color rising beneath her skin and creeping up her neck. When she attempted to untangle her fingers from his, he clung to her like glue. She felt like kicking him in the shins. It was bad enough that he set her body on fire, but now she was completely flustered, while he looked the same as ever-calm, implacable, completely invincible.

“Just where is the camp, then?” she demanded through clenched teeth.

For a moment Darius stared at her. Then he blinked, wiping out the mocking amusement she was certain she had seen swirling in the depths of his eyes. He regarded her with a perfectly sober expression that made her want to really kick his shins. It took a goodly measure of self-control to keep from doing it.

“Don’t lecture me. I normally have some sense of direction,” she protested. “You must have put a spell over me or something. Just lead the way. And wipe that expression off your face while you’re doing it.”

He walked in silence, his body unconsciously protective toward hers. “What kind of spell did I put over you?” he asked gently, his voice that pure, mesmerizing, hypnotic cadence she couldn’t seem to resist.

“How should I know?” she asked petulantly. “For all I know, you studied with Merlin.” She regarded him with suspicion. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Actually, honey, he was my apprentice,” he said.

She put both hands over her ears, her fingers still entwined with his. “I don’t want to hear this. Even if you’re kidding, I don’t want to hear this.”

They reached the clearing, and Tempest stopped to stare at the empty grove. Only the truck remained. Not so much as a stray paper wrapper indicated that anyone had ever been there. She was destined to be alone with Darius whether she wanted it or not. “This isn’t a conspiracy, is it?”

Darius laughed softly as he opened the door to the truck. “My family probably thinks I have lost my mind, but they would never conspire against you.”

“But they would conspire for you,” Tempest said with sudden insight. She tilted her head at him. “What would they do if this Prince of your people didn’t like something you did?”

Darius shrugged casually with his natural arrogance. “I would not want my family to do other than stay out of my business. I have long taken care of myself and my own concerns. I answer to no one. I never have, and I would be unable to do so at this late date.” His hands spanned her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, depositing her on the seat of the truck. “Fasten your seat belt, honey. I would not want you to leap out at the first sign of trouble.”

She was muttering under her breath as he slid behind the wheel. In the close confines of the truck, he seemed more powerful than ever. The width of his shoulders, the strong columns of his thighs, the heat of his body. Tempest swallowed the groan caught in her throat. His masculine scent beckoned to something wild and un­tamed in her. Her fingernails tapped out a nervous rhythm on the dashboard. “You know, Darius, maybe I should just take a bus.”

He heard the shadow of desperation in her voice and chose to ignore it. After starting the engine, he reached over to touch her soft skin just once, his fingertip running down her cheek.