Gregori laughed softly. “You could be right, chérie. You are a dangerous woman.”
He flowed from the lounge chair, still holding her locked to him, and glided across the courtyard into the house. The shower was hot on their bodies after the cool rain, but they stayed there for some time, too spent to move. Savannah was grateful that he held her in his arms, afraid her legs would never support her again.
Gregori dried her slender body with a towel before waving a hand to clothe himself. Savannah was wandering through the house back to the kitchen, with only another of his shirts to cover her. Her bare skin showed marks that hadn’t been there before, and he followed her, cursing his own roughness. He had left his brand on her breast deliberately, the mark of his possession, but the faint smudges elsewhere needed to be healed.
Savannah laughed softly. “I don’t hurt anywhere, lifemate. I loved, it, and you know it.”
“I can make you love it without marking you,” he corrected.
She idly picked up a packet of papers and sifted through them, then dropped them onto the counter. “If you ever hurt me, Gregori, I promise you, I’ll tell you immediately.”
He sensed the return of her restlessness. “What is it?”
“Let’s do something, Gregori. Something that has nothing to do with the hunt. Something different. Something touristy.”
“The streets are flooded tonight,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. “I know. I was just looking at some pamphlets earlier, on all the tourist attractions here,” Savannah said nonchalantly.
Gregori looked up alertly at the carefully calculated disinterest in her voice. “Did any of them seem appealing to you?”
She shrugged again very casually. “Most of the more interesting ones are the day trips. Like the bayous. There’s one you can go on with someone who grew up in the bayou.” She shrugged again. “I like learning local history. I wouldn’t mind a tour of the bayou with someone who grew up there.”
“You have the brochure handy?” he asked.
“It isn’t important,” Savannah said with a little sigh. Tossing the packet of pamphlets onto the table, she picked up her hairbrush.
Gregori took it out of her hand. “If you want a proper tour of the bayou, Savannah, then we will go.”
“I like to do the tourist thing,” Savannah admitted with a slight smile. “It’s kind of fun to ask questions and learn new things.”
“I bet you are very good at it,” he answered her, slowly running the brush through the blue-black length of her hair. It crackled with a life of its own, refusing to be tamed. He gathered it into his hands just to feel how soft and silky it was. Over her shoulder, his pale gaze rested on the brochure she had put to one side. If Savannah wanted a tour, he would move heaven and earth to get her one. “We do not always go chasing after vampires and the mortal assassins plaguing our people,” he began diplomatically.
“I know. They turn up everywhere we go,” she agreed.
He tugged at a tangle in her glossy hair. “When you first proposed to come to New Orleans, we had hoped the society members would follow us and leave Aidan and his people in peace. Is that not what you wanted?”
“Not particularly,” she admitted with a flash of her blue eyes. “I was only trying to get you to come here. You know, classic honeymoon. Sweet young wife teaches wizened old grouch how to have fun. That sort of thing.”
“Wizened old grouch?” he echoed in astonishment. “The old part I can accept, even the grouch. But I am definitely not wizened.” In punishment he tugged her hair.
“Ow!” She swung around and glared indignantly at him. “Wizened sort of seemed to fit. You know, wizard, wizened.”
Gregori crushed her hair to his face to hide the sudden emotion overwhelming him. The fragrance of flowers and fresh air surrounded him. So this was what he had sought all those long centuries. Fun. Belonging. Someone with whom to share laughter and teasing and to make even the difficult moments in life beautiful. She was so much a part of him, he couldn’t return to a barren existence again. He would never choose to stay in the world without her.