Mychael heard, and better yet, he did something about it. He looked up at me and grinned. “Hold on.”

I did.

He slid his hands down to pull me tight against him, and flipped me over onto my back.

I yelped in surprise, and then laughed and wrapped my legs around him.

Mychael’s grin broadened, then he leaned down and trapped my bottom lip between his teeth, nipping. “You like?”

“Oh yeah.” My heart was only about to pound its way out of my chest, I liked it so much.

“Uh . . . if you want me to do anything else, you’re going to have to unwrap your legs.”

“What? Oh . . .”

I slid my legs down from his hips and Mychael got off of the bed and went to work on my boots. They were tall boots, over my knees, and weren’t easy for me to take off under the best of circumstances, but Mychael made short work of them, and they joined my doublet and shirt on the floor.

I reached up and tugged him down on top of me. Mychael’s eyes were gleaming as he put his hands on either side of me and dipped his head to my belly, the tip of his tongue running a quick, warm swirl around the edge of my belly button. My hips arched up in a shock of sensation. Mychael slid one of his hands under me, the other quickly unbuttoning my trousers.

I swallowed and tried to pull in some air. “Nimble fingers,” I noted.

He smiled up at me. “Just wait.”

I couldn’t.

Mychael slipped his fingers into the top of my trousers and after a few squirms from me, they joined the pile of my clothes on the floor. Then he stood and I watched. Pulling his uniform trousers on was a lot easier than taking them off now, but a few minutes ago, he didn’t have nearly as much to pull them over.

I’d seen him naked before, but then just a peek briefly visible above a sheet, and the room had been almost dark. I could see everything now, and my power of speech abandoned me completely.

Mychael slid onto the bed and I hooked my leg around his hip, pulling him down to me. The hard length of him slid against my thigh until it touched the source of my ache, and my breath caught in my throat. Mychael’s eyes met mine, dark pools of midnight blue, steady, certain of what he wanted . . . and hungry.

My eyes flicked toward the door. “Is it locked?”

He blinked. “What?”

“The door, is it locked?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I mean, well . . . it doesn’t have a latch.”

“It doesn’t have a latch on the outside, either.”

“But what if—”

“It’s sealed. The door and this room are spellproof.” His grin was slow and wicked. “And soundproof.” He grabbed me around the hips, rolled, and swung me up on top. “There. You want control? You got it.” His eyes glittered up at me in challenge.

I opened my mouth and Mychael laid his fingers across my lips. “This is bodywork, Raine.”

I smiled beneath his fingers and reached down to touch him. Smooth and velvety at the same time. I ran my fingers across the tip and he gasped and jerked beneath me.

I reached for him again, but he caught my hand in his.

“You don’t like it?”

Mychael took a ragged breath. “I like it too much.” His voice was hoarse, raw. “I’ve wanted you for too long to let it end like that.”

I grinned. “Say no more.”

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to.”

Neither one of us said another word as I lowered myself onto him, settling with a trembling sigh. Oh . . . yes. Oh yeah, that was good. That was so nice. That was so far beyond good and nice that a word hadn’t been invented yet to describe it. I stayed like that, panting, unmoving, then Mychael shifted beneath me with a gentle thrust and someone moaned softly. It was me.

I braced my hands on his chest as we moved together, his hands on my hips, his fingers spread wide, gripping me. A warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with our mysterious bond and everything to do with us, what we were doing, together, here and now. I leaned down and Mychael rose up to meet me, our lips meeting, our quickened breath mingling. The heat swirled faster, and lower, building in my belly and beyond, tightening, gripping. Molten. Our bodies moved faster to match the liquid fire spiraling through us, and I heard Mychael’s long drawn-out growl from beneath me as he thrust once more, hard enough to send us both over the edge.

In the next instant, for both of our sakes, I really hoped that room was soundproof.

I sprawled on top of Mychael, my breathing harsh and ragged against his shoulder. His hands slid lazily up my spine and down along the curve of my waist and hips and back again, the heat sparking beneath his fingers, sending little shivers through me. I stretched, slow and languid, and I swear I purred.

“Sleep would be great,” I murmured against his lips.

“Too bad we can’t have any.” His eyes sparkled. “Though we had something even better.”

“Yes, we did.” I ran my fingernails lightly down his chest. “Thank you, very much.”

“My pleasure, Miss Benares.”

“Oh, I can assure you that the pleasure was all mine.”

Mychael laughed. “So I heard.”

I playfully smacked him on the ass and he just laughed harder.

I rolled off of him, snuggling in the crook of his arm, my head on his chest. “I hope no one else did. I can do without an applauding crowd when we step outside.”

We lay there in the silence, arms and legs entwined, warm and safe. The only sound I could hear was Mychael’s heartbeat against my ear. I closed my eyes and drifted. This felt good. Better than good, this felt right. We were still in as much danger as before; that hadn’t changed. But everything else had. Though it wasn’t a change, not really. It was more like a confirmation. Yes, a confirmation. My heart had known how I felt even if my head wouldn’t admit it, even if I was afraid to admit it. And it was past time for me to say it. I had to. I didn’t plan on dying in the next few days, and anyone who was determined to try to make me was in for one hell of a fight. They were in for a lot worse if they laid one hand on Mychael. I didn’t want to think about losing him, but the image came in my mind’s eye before I could stop it. If something did happen to him . . . or to me . . . I wanted him to know that I—

I tilted my head and looked up at Mychael. His eyes were closed, but he was awake. He sensed me looking and opened his eyes. I’d just made love to the man and was naked in bed with him. Shy should be the last thing I felt. Then why was I nervous? Just say it, Raine.

“I . . . I love you, too.”

Mychael tightened his arms around me and pulled me up close enough to kiss. Then he did just that, slow, delicious, and maddening. And I started having naughty ideas that we didn’t have time for me to have.

Mychael’s lips released mine and he just looked at me, as if memorizing my face, storing away this moment. Like he was trying to get a picture in his mind of something he was about to lose, something that would be taken from him.

He wasn’t going to lose me.

And no one was taking Mychael Eiliesor away from me.

“We’re going to get out of this.” I didn’t ask it as a question. I stated it as an irrefutable fact. “So are our friends and so are my family.” I smiled and I knew it was fierce. Hell, I felt fierce. I was also determined, and I was happy. Yes, dammit, for the first time in a long time, I was happy. And no one was going to take that away from me. “And today is the beginning of the end for anyone who thinks otherwise.”

Mychael and I got back to watcher headquarters just before sunrise. We walked through headquarters’ front doors this time, like we’d come from the citadel after a night of questioning false witnesses, not an evening of kidnapping an elven duke, blowing up a house, and making mind-blowing love in a secret hideout. Mychael pulled me into a side street twice for quick, heated kisses. But by the time we got to headquarters, the proper paladin was back.

I smiled. I wasn’t going to be fooled by that act ever again.

Sedge met us at the front door, a big grin on his broad and honest face. “You don’t need those witnesses to recant,” he informed Mychael. “Director Imala Kalis brought evidence of her own.”

Tam’s cell was empty and all eyes were on the closed door to Sedge’s conference room. And half of those eyes belonged to enough goblin secret service agents to no doubt make Imala feel comfortable and Sedge’s boys more than a trifle edgy.

“The two of them are in there,” he responded to our unspoken question, and my obvious concern.

Mychael inclined his head toward the conference room. “Was that Imala Kalis’s idea?”

“Nope, the second he was out of that cell, Nathrach damned near dragged her in there.” Sedge’s grin broadened. “The lady landed a solid kick to Nathrach’s shin, but she told her men not to interfere.”

“What’s with the goblin spy convention?” I asked, bothered by any room that was wall-to-wall fangs.

“The lady showed up about an hour ago with the paperwork she needed and the law on her side,” Sedge told us. “As a keeper of the law, I had to agree that she was well within her rights to demand Nathrach’s release.”

Mychael’s expression darkened. “What papers?”

“Papers proving that Nathrach was still a member of the goblin royal family and as such he has diplomatic immunity from prosecution of any crime except in a goblin court of law. And while the lady was at it, she claimed that Nathrach had been taken as a political prisoner and Magus Silvanus’s and Inquisitor Balmorlan’s accusations and groundless arrest were an act of war.”

I snorted a laugh. “Sorry, but that’s priceless. Did Carnades get to hear any of this?”

“He wasn’t here, just Balmorlan. And when the lady told him, she was in his face, about as close as she could get and not be standing on his boots. Balmorlan had turned up not ten minutes after she arrived. It’s like he was lurking outside.”