“You are crazy about me. I know. I read minds.” He suddenly grinned mischievously, like a little boy.
“Next time you make love to me, do you think we might go for convention and find a bed?” She sat up gingerly.
Mikhail’s arm curved around her in support. “Did I hurt you?”
She laughed softly. “Are you kidding? Though I wouldn’t mind a long soak in a hot tub.”
He rubbed the top of her head with his chin. “I think we can arrange that, little one.” He should have realized the wood floor would not be the most comfortable of spots. “You tend to drive every sane thought from my head.” It was an apology as he lifted her into his arms. His long strides took them through the house to the master bathroom.
Raven’s eyes warmed, melted, her smile so loving his breath caught in his throat. “You do tend to get a little primitive, Mikhail.”
He growled at her, lowered his head to hers slowly, fastened his mouth to hers. There was such a mixture of tenderness and hunger, she ached for him. Very gently he set her on her feet, her small face framed in his hand. “I will never get enough of you, Raven, never. But you need to soak in the tub and I need to feed.”
“Eat.” She bent to fill the tub with hot, steamy water. “In English you use the word eat. I’m not the greatest cook, but I could put something together for you.”
His white teeth gleamed like a predator’s as he lit candles for her. “You are not here as my slave, little one. At least not in the domestic1 sense.” His eyes watched without blinking as she knotted her hair on top of her head. It was unnerving, yet Raven’s body tingled under the heat of his gaze. He held out a hand to help her into the large tub. The moment his strong fingers closed around hers, Raven had the peculiar sensation of being captured.
Raven cleared her throat, then lowered her body gingerly into the steaming water. “So, do you believe in being faithful?” She tried to sound casual.
A dark shadow crossed his craggy features. “A true Carpathian of my race does not feel the shallow, childish, pale version of human love. If you were to be with another man, I would know, feel you, your thoughts, your emotions.” He traced his fingertip along her delicate cheekbone. “You would not want to face the demon in me, little one. I am capable of tremendous violence. I will not share you.”
“You would never hurt me, Mikhail, no matter what the cause of your anger,” Raven said softly, with complete conviction.
“You will always be safe with me,” he agreed, “but I cannot say the same for anyone who would threaten to take you from me. All of my people are telepathic. A strong emotion such as sexual passion is impossible to conceal.”
“Do you mean to say those of you who marry…”
“Take a lifemate,” he corrected.
“They never are unfaithful to one another?” she asked incredulously.
“Not a true lifemate. There have been instances—” Mikhail’s fist clenched tightly. Poor sweet Noelle, so obsessed with wanting Rand. “The few that do betray their chosen mate do not feel as they should; otherwise it would be impossible. That is why it is so important to know absolutely in one’s mind, heart, soul, and body. As I know it is so with you.” The ritual words could not bind two who were not already one. Life mating united two halves of the same whole, but he could not find a way to express such a thing in terms she would understand.
“But, Mikhail, I’m not one of your people.” She was beginning to realize there were differences besides customs that she needed to be aware of, to take into consideration.
He crushed herbs into a bowl, dumped the mixture into her bathwater. It would help with her soreness. “You would know if I touched another woman.”
“But you could make me forget,” she mused aloud, a small frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. He could feel her heart begin to race, the sudden doubt in her mind.