Shadow's Edge (42 page)

“My mother was human, and she wasn’t like that,” Jenna protested. “I’ve known a lot of people who aren’t like that. You can’t just keep this prejudice going from generation to generation—it’s holding the
Ikati
back. We’ll never be able to live in the open, we’ll never be able to
advance
if we can’t let go of the past.”

He smiled down at her. Moonlight found the slopes of his face and slid over his skin in pale crystal streamers, magical and glimmering like fairy dust. “Silly of me to think you would agree with me,” he murmured, lowering his face to touch his nose to hers.

“I’ll always disagree with you when you’re
wrong
,” she said, turning her face away.

He caught her chin in his hand and turned it back, held her face captive in his hand. “I may be wrong about many things, but one thing I am completely sure of,” he said, stroking his thumb over the side of her face.

“And what is that?” Jenna asked tartly.

“You are the most completely stubborn creature I have ever met.”

She huffed and pulled her chin out of his hand, but he caught it again and rolled halfway on top of her, pinning her chest and part of her legs with the weight of his body. His laughter shook them both.

“I wasn’t finished! You are the most completely stubborn creature I have ever met—”

“You already said that!”

“
And
I love you. I love you, Jenna. Awake or asleep, arguing or agreeing, through hell or high water, I love you.” He gazed down at her, his body pressed full against hers, his gaze solemn and tender on her face.

“Oh. Well. Maybe you should have said that first.” Her lips twisted into a tiny smile. Her lashes dropped. “And just for the record,” she said softly, hiding her face in his shoulder, “since I haven’t technically said it yet...I love you too. I finally feel like I’m home. You’re my home, Leander.” She closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Life is pain and we all must die,” she whispered, remembering her mother’s words, “but true love lives forever. And it can show you the way home.”

His hand stroked over her arm and back, feathered kisses rained over her neck and shoulder. He brushed more kisses over her cheeks, stroked his lips very lightly against hers. He adjusted his hips to move over hers and settled his weight between her legs. A slow, slow burn began in her stomach.

“I should tell you more about what I saw...” she murmured, then gasped as his mouth lowered to her chest, found her nipple. Hot tongue and silken lips drew against her skin. “I need to tell you about...about their plans...”

“Tomorrow,” Leander murmured, lifting his head, his gaze dark and serious. “Tomorrow we can plan strategy and
plot vengeance and wage war. Tomorrow we can do all of those things. But right now...”

He kissed her, hard and delicious, until she lost her breath and her chest went tight. Her body arched against him.

He looked down at her between half-closed eyes and smiled. “Right now we have other things to attend to, great Queen.”

“Actually,” she murmured, sliding her hands around the back of his neck, “I think you were onto something with ‘She Who Must Be Obeyed.’ That has a really nice ring to it.”

His laugh was muffled against her neck. “Well then, I suppose...” He brushed his lips against hers. “Your wish is my command. How may I be of service, my lady?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she said innocently. “In fact, I can think of several things just off the top of my head.”

He tipped his head back to look down at her, smiling like a wolf.

She offered him a feral smile of her own and lifted her legs up to wrap tightly around his waist.

A big thank you to Marlene Stringer of the Stringer Literary Agency for being the first person to say what every writer wants to hear: “I loved it!” You’ve been a great advocate. Also big thanks to the team at Montlake for being so wonderful to work with. You guys rock. To Melody Guy, who helped me refine Jenna and Leander’s story with some amazing suggestions, this is me giving you virtual hugs and a shout-out for your insightfulness. To the Wednesday night book club “ladies,” Anthony, Don, Stephen, John, and Gene, big kisses. Here’s to many more years of drunken debauchery and table pounding. I love you like the sisters I never had. And to Jay, who puts up with the insanity of living with the writing-obsessed and has taught me how to be a better person. You’re my hero. I’d be lost without you.

Photo by Jay Geissenger, 2011

J. T. Geissinger is an author, entrepreneur, and avid wine collector. A native of Los Angeles, she currently resides there with her husband and too many cats.