“It’s an amazing city,” she said. “So full of history. I can feel all of it.”
Ian smiled. It was part of being a Historious. The pull of artifacts and history was a comforting feeling. So familiar to his kind, yet foreign to others. Even if stealing artifacts couldn’t make him wealthy, he would still hunt them. It was in his blood, like it was in hers.
“We have that in common,” he said.
She nodded. “I love the hunt. The search. It’s more than just a job. It’s my life. I love it. I need it.”
“Aye, exactly.”
“We’ll find the book. We have to.” She turned to him. The sight of her, so determined and beautiful, hit him hard in the chest. She glanced up at him and frowned.
He stepped back, realizing that he was staring at her like a starving man.
“We should go,” he said.
“Aye.” But she didn’t move. The expression on her face changed from confusion to something else, something that had her eyes skipping down his body, then back up to his face.
“Fiona.” As her name tore from his throat, it dawned on him that she’d stepped forward until she stood nearly toe-to-toe with him.
He had a feeling that she hadn’t realized she’d done it. It seemed like her thoughts had turned away from the book, and his were helpless but to follow.
When her hand rose to rest against his chest, he reached down to cup the back of her head. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Something like a growl rose in his throat when her lips parted beneath his.
She surged against him, wrapping her strong arms about his neck. The feel of her against him, soft and curved, made his cock throb. The streak of desire was so hot it made him growl low in his throat, then clench his fist in her hair to hold her still for his mouth.
Her tongue met his and all he could think about was lifting her up so that she sat on the half-wall and he could get at the zipper to her jeans. He wanted inside her. Now.
So badly that it scared him.
It felt like he was losing control of his body, the long-denied lusts that had ridden him rising to the fore until they stamped out his conscious thought and possibly her will as well.
That scared him. He tore away from her, mourning the lost taste of her lips but too afraid of where his body might be going without his mind.
She blinked up at him, shiny lips parted and breath coming fast. “Ian, um… I…”
“We should go.”
She nodded, seeming to come back to her senses. “Okay. You’re right. Of course.”
Ian spun from her and headed back to the metal door that led back into the museum. He had no idea how he was going to keep his hands off her now.
Fiona and Ian dodged pedestrians back to their rented flat. The two of them were like water that was just about to burst into a boil. There was no stopping it.
It was surreal to be this close to the book, yet be distracted by a thief who’d stolen the artifacts she’d dedicated her life to finding and protecting.
She couldn’t help it; her mind was on the man at her side.
“Ian MacKenzie, is that ye?”
Fiona turned around to look at the man they’d just passed. Tall and slender, he was wearing ratty clothes and looking at Ian with recognition gleaming in his buggy eyes. If he recognized Ian, he was a Mythean, not human. He had to be, to still be alive and look so young.
She tensed.
“Tommy MacFee.” Ian’s voice was reserved as he shifted to stand partially in front of Fiona.
She elbowed him and moved to his side. She could protect herself.
“Who’s that ye got there? Lovely bird, she is.” His accent was far thicker than hers or Ian’s.