Slowly, he turns to face me. “Then who would wash my back?”
“You should ask Juliana. She seems like she’d like to wash any part you asked.”
His lips part, and he blinks at me. “Jealous, Princess?” He stalks toward the shoreline, shedding his tunic and unbuckling the bandolier of knives from his waist.
“No. You can do what you please, with whomever you please.”
“What I please? So, joining you in this lake—”
“Still wouldn’t be . . . proper. ”
That grin grows wider, and he comes closer, discarding another item of clothing with each step.
“And since when did you care about propriety?”
I bite my lip. The reasonable thing is to insist that he stay put. He would respect my wishes if I pushed the issue . . . But after all those hours riding in front of him on his horse, feeling the heat of his body and the strength of his legs cradling me? The reasonable thing doesn’t even resemble the thing I want.
So I don’t object. But I am feeling a little shy, so when he moves to peel off his pants, I dive under, distancing myself from the shore. When I surface, he’s in the lake, three feet from me, his curls wet, rivulets of water rolling down his face. That grin falls away as he studies my expression, and his eyes turn hot as they trail down to the water—to everything I know is all too exposed beneath the surface.
I splash him, and he jerks back, as if yanked from a stupor. “Eyes to yourself,” I say.
“But the view is so lovely out here,” he says. “I should thank you for not using that impressive magic of yours to hide it from me.”
My magic. Of course. With a single thought, I cast shadows around myself, weaving a gown of darkness from above my breasts to below my knees.
He brings his gaze up to meet mine. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
I shrug, then turn away from him, swimming toward the waterfall and the steady thrum of the water pounding the rocks. A moment later something grabs my foot. I draw a big breath of air before I’m pulled under. I spin beneath the surface to see what— who—has ahold of me, and Finn’s silver eyes glow back at me, somehow sparkling even down here.
He smiles as he swims toward me, catching me around the waist before he pushes us both back to the surface. I pull in a breath, but don’t have a chance to say anything before his mouth crushes down on mine. One hand grips my waist, holding me close, and the other slides into my hair as he tilts my head and slants his mouth over mine.
The water is cool, but my skin is warmer than it was on the sunny ride here—hot and needy all at once just from the brush of his tongue against mine and the feel of his hand wrapping around my hip.
When he tears away, he’s panting, dragging in big gulps of air, as if we were underwater for much longer than we were. His gaze drifts to the shore and stays there for a beat.
“What is it?” I crane my neck around. Just beyond the shore, in the tree line, red eyes glow in our direction. My fae sight allows me to just make out the sight of Kane’s imposing figure leaning against a massive oak. “Voyeur,” I mutter.
Finn chuckles. “More like a worrywart,” he says. Beneath the water, his fingers intertwine with mine and he tugs my hand. “Come with me.” He releases me, and we swim side by side toward the waterfall.
Kane’s appearance is a reminder that I should bathe and head back to my clothing, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Finn’s hands on me since the incident with my shadow self last night —maybe since long before that—so I follow.
Finn dives beneath the waterfall, swimming under it. The water pounds so hard, I can’t hear anything else, but I dive after him. When I surface, he’s already pulled himself up on the rock ledge.
He extends a hand for me and helps me out of the water. I should feel awkward, exposed as I am, but I don’t. I want this moment badly enough that I don’t have the energy for any self-consciousness.
The sound of the falls is almost deafening, but the water makes a screen, hiding us here, giving us privacy.
Finn cups my face in his hands, studying me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m . . . I’m fine.” I’m not fine. My heart hammers manically in my chest and anticipation skitters along my skin.
Finn swallows and tips his head down, touching his forehead to mine. “I’ve wanted to kiss you again every day—every minute—since I got to at Castle Craige. I can’t stop thinking about it.” He skims his thumb over my bottom lip. “Tell me you want this—that you wanted it before this moment.”