Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [127]
At first glance the tools he collected from the silver charm bin appeared to be farm tools, but she realized each item had a dual purpose. Like the shifting colors in the dichroic glass, the implements he chose had multiple uses. Each had been used as lethal weapons to defend farmers from warlords in times past as well as for working the land.
Judith disarmed the security system she considered absolutely useless anyway and opened the French doors leading to the gardens to allow the fresh ocean air into the room. She was restless and weary of the entire experiment. She almost didn’t want to see what he’d constructed, now that the scope was near completion. The night air was crisp. She could hear the bark of the sea lions as they called to one another. The more she paced around the room, the more she was aware of his stillness—his silence. He lived in silence. He was coiled and ready to strike even as he appeared so focused on his work.
He worked in silence for more than an hour, methodical in his approach to finding just the right objects for his cell. He didn’t seem to be worried about pleasing her, never once looking to her for approval—or for help. He seemed determined to show her who he really was and damn the consequences.
She snuck another peek. He appeared to be gluing teardrop beads filled with red liquid onto a white snowflake charm. His actions were sure, precise, no hesitation at all. She didn’t have to remind him to view the contents of his dry cell through the mirror system. Each time he added something to his cell, he was careful to look at it through the seven-point system.
Her stomach fluttered and she pressed her hand hard to it to keep the somersaulting down. It was difficult to be in the same room with him and not want to go over to him and kiss his neck as he bent his head close to his work.
He suddenly looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with dark lust. Her stomach did a fast roll and her body dampened with liquid heat. He smiled at her.
“Me too.”
Her mouth went dry. Her palm itched. She was desperate for him and it didn’t help that they had made wild, intoxicating love right here on her table.
“We’re using the bed next time.”
He made it a statement of fact, certain there would be a next time. Oh, God, she wanted there to be a next time. Please let there be a next time. She felt the brush of his gaze like fingertips stroking her skin. Her nipples hardened beneath her thin tee. She should have put on something else.
“We’ll make it, angel,” he said. “Have faith.”
Funny that he would be the one to tell her to have faith.
He smiled at her. “You’re my personal angel, fallen from the sky, and I’ve clipped your wings, honey. I’m keeping them safe, right here. Now tell me how to seal this.”
She wasn’t certain what he meant by clipping her wings, but she wanted the suspense over and yet she didn’t want to actually know if it was going to turn out wrong.
“I like what I have.” Again he spoke with absolute finality, which told her a lot about him. Once he made up his mind, he was certain of his decisions and he acted on them.
“Seal the lid on with the acrylic cement,” Judith directed. “When you’re finished, there’s a tiny, predrilled hole in the side of the cell. Pump in the heavy mineral oil with the needle.” She indicated where. “Use the tiny set screw there, to close the hole after you’ve filled the cell with the oil.”
Judith watched him work, her heart accelerating. She would have to look at his work soon and she was afraid of what she might see. She crossed to stand in front of the French doors, staring out at her garden. The plants always soothed her. She loved the many colored maples, shaping them into draping, graceful limbs hanging above the narrow ribbon of water running over rocks creating a small waterfall