Dark Slayer - Christine Feehan [134]
“I was afraid,” she confessed in a low voice.
“I know you were,” he said gently, “which made your gift all the more treasured.”
“Are you really going to carry me to the pool?”
“Don’t sound so scared,” he teased. “Somehow I will manage to find the strength. I promise, I will not drop you.”
She tightened her fingers around his. “I know that. I just might feel silly.”
“No one is here but us, Ivory,” he pointed out, his tone more tender than ever.
She felt her heart twist again. He could do that so easily to her. Move her. Make her melt. It wasn’t his incredible body or the way he took her to such heights, it was that enduring love he seemed to have for her. A rock. A foundation. Strong and accepting that made her feel as if she could always count on him.
“I know.”
“Do you think I will think less of you?”
She was silent, contemplating his question, turning it over and over in her mind. She just felt ridiculous feeling about him the way that she did. Why couldn’t she let herself go in the way that he did?
“I don’t think I know how to be a woman.” She didn’t know how else to say it.
Razvan turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Ivory, you are my woman. You do not have to be like any other. I do not want any other. There is no comparison. Be who you are. Make no apologies, certainly not to me.” A small smile curved his mouth and he leaned forward to brush kisses over her mouth. “I love the way you are, that little reluctance you have to tell me I am the greatest man in all the world.”
His soft laughter stroked over her skin. He sounded so boyish, carefree even, less inhibited for the first time in his life.
He managed to climb to his feet and lifted her, cradling her in his arms as if she were as light as a child. “You have worn me out, warrior woman.”
Ivory couldn’t help laughing. “If you were truly the greatest man in all the world, you would not be worn out. You would be ready to service my every need.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I believe that is a challenge.” He fastened his mouth to hers as he took her through to the next room where the water spilled out of the rock wall into the smooth basin. “I am more than up for servicing your every need.” He whispered the words against her mouth, his tongue flicking over her lips, savoring her taste.
“Really? I am not quite as certain.” She used her haughtiest tone.
He dropped her into the water. She came up sputtering to find him standing there, hands on his hips, the water lapping at his thighs.
“That was so mean.”
“You deserved it.”
“Maybe I did,” she agreed, laughing.
He was teaching her how to have fun. To play. To take each moment they had together and live it well. In the spirit of learning, she sent up a plume of water with deadly aim. The water shot over his face and splashed down his chest.
“I thought you might need a little cooling off.”
His eyebrow rose. Amusement lit his eyes. “I think you just declared war.”
She stuck out her chin. “I think I did.”
The water fight was fast and furious. Water geysered nearly to the ceiling and splashed against the wall. Twice he launched himself at her, bringing her down like a crocodile might its prey, rolling her under the water before she could wiggle away from him and surface to attack again.
She threw herself at him, arms circling his neck, and body slammed him, taking them both under and when they came up, they rested on the side of the warm pool and let the bubbles fizz against their skin.
She rubbed her arms and glanced upward as if she might be able to see the sky. “I can always tell when the sun is about to rise. My skin prickles and becomes uncomfortable. Most Carpathians can stay out in the early morning hours but I cannot.”
“Not at all?”
She rested one hip against the smooth basin and wrung out her hair. “My skin is so fair, all the years spent in the ground away from even moonlight while I was healing, and I get burned. More like a light sunburn, I guess,