She could smell his cologne. Spice and evergreen. It ushered her back in time to moments they had spent together in the lift and in the office. And now her body was draped across his and she couldn’t deny how good it felt, as if the two of them fit together. A flicker of desire warmed her blood, but the sparks swiftly dimmed when she thought of Carver.
Carver.
The guilt nearly crushed her. She kept him at the forefront of her mind until a shiver spun through her, and she felt a strange prompting to open her eyes.
She dared to do so, only to discover Roman was intently studying her face. Her hair lay tangled across his mouth, and her sweat was dripping onto his neck, and yet he didn’t move, just as she had ordered. He stared at her and she stared back, and they waited for the end to come.
It felt as if spring had blossomed into midsummer by the time the eithrals retreated. The shadows fled, the air warmed, the light brightened, the wind returned, and the grass sighed against Iris’s shoulders and legs. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear shouting as life slowly returned to Avalon Bluff. It took her a few more moments to quell her fear, to be confident enough to move again, to trust that the threat was gone.
She winced as she pushed upward, her wrists and shoulders numb from holding herself frozen. A slight groan escaped her as she sat back on Roman’s waist, her hands tingling with pins and needles. The pain was good; it reminded her of how furious she was at him, for arriving unannounced in the middle of a siren. How his utter foolishness had nearly killed them both.
Iris glared down at him. He was still watching her attentively, as if waiting for her to lift the command over him, and a smirk played across his lips.
“What the hell are you doing here, Kitt?” she demanded, shoving his chest. “Have you lost your mind?”
She felt his hands slide down her back, resting on the curve of her hips. If she wasn’t so exhausted and stiff from the harrowing encounter they had miraculously survived, she would have knocked away his touch. She would have slapped him. She might have kissed him.
He only smiled as if he had read her mind, and said, “It’s good to see you again too, Winnow.”
{26}
Outshine
What was she supposed to do with him?
Iris had no idea, but her stomach was in knots as she pushed away from Roman’s lithe body, standing with a wobble. She crossed her arms and watched as he rose with a slight groan. It felt like she had swallowed sunlight—there was a warm humming in her body that intensified the longer she regarded Roman—and she realized that she was actually pleased to see him. But her pride remained in place like a shield; she would never let him know such a thing.
“Do I need to ask you again, Kitt?” she asked.
He took his time brushing stray grass and dirt from his jumpsuit before he glanced up at her. “Perhaps. Profanity is quite becoming on you.”
She gritted her teeth but managed to hold back another curse, cracking her neck instead. “Do you have any idea how much danger we were in? Because you decided to walk across a field during a siren?”
That sobered him and he gazed at her. A cloud passed over the sun. Shadows fell again, and Iris flinched, as if an eithral’s wings were the cause.
“Those were eithrals, weren’t they?” Roman’s voice was thick.
Iris nodded. “You’re familiar with the old myths?”
“A few. I slept through most of my mythology classes.”
She had a hard time imagining that. Roman Competitive Kitt, who wanted to be the best at everything.
“I take it the siren warns of their approach?” he asked.
“Yes, among other things,” she answered.
He stared at her for a long, heady moment. The wind gusted between them, cool and sweetened from the crushed grass. “I didn’t know, Winnow. I heard the siren and thought it meant to hurry into town. You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me, running into the open like that.”
“They would have dropped a bomb on you, Kitt. It would have most likely leveled the town.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair. “Again, I’m sorry. Is there anything else I should know?”
“There are other sirens and protocols, but I’ll let Marisol tell you about them.”
“Marisol? She’s my contact.” He began to look around for the luggage he had dropped. He retraced his steps and retrieved his typewriter case and leather bag, returning to where Iris stood waiting for him like a statue. “Do you mind introducing me to her?”
“I’m not doing anything until you answer my question,” Iris said. “Why are you here?”
“What does it look like, Winnow? I’m here to write about the war, same as you.”
He wasn’t squinting, but she still struggled to believe him. Her heart continued to pound. She couldn’t tell if it was from the close brush with death or the fact that Roman was here, standing before her and looking just as good in a jumpsuit as he did in his pressed shirt and trousers.
“In case you forgot … you beat me, Kitt,” she said. “You won columnist, just as you always wanted. And then you decide it’s not good enough for you and your highbrow tastes, and you decide to hound me here as well?”
“Last I checked, they needed more war correspondents,” Roman countered, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
“They couldn’t send you to another town?”
“No.”
“Being columnist too much pressure for you?”
“No, but Zeb Autry was. I didn’t want to work for him anymore.”
Iris thought about the last conversation she had had with Zeb. She stifled a shudder, but Roman noticed. She could hardly believe her audacity, but she had to know …
“What about your fiancée, Kitt? She’s fine with you reporting this close to the front?”
His frown deepened. “I broke the engagement.”
“You what?”
“I’m not marrying her. So I suppose you could say I’m here to escape the death wish my father had for me upon realizing I’d vastly disappointed him and disgraced the family name.”
That took the fun out of vexing him. Iris suddenly felt cold, and she rubbed her arms. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure your father will be worried about you.”
Roman smiled, but it was skewed, as if he was trying to hide his pain. “Perhaps, but not likely.”
Iris turned, glancing at the town. “Well, come on, then. I’ll take you to Marisol’s.” She led the way through the field, Roman following close behind her.
Attie was pacing the kitchen, a furious expression on her face when Iris opened the back doors.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Iris Winnow!” she cried. “Or else I’ll kill you myself, do you hear me?”
“Attie,” Iris said calmly, stepping over the threshold. “I need to introduce you to someone.” She moved aside so Attie could get a clear view of Roman, entering the B and B for the first time.
Attie’s jaw dropped. But she quickly recovered from her surprise, her eyes narrowing with slight suspicion. “Did the eithrals drop a boy from the sky, then?”
“Another correspondent,” Iris said, at which Roman glanced at her. “This is Roman Kitt. Kitt, this is my friend and fellow writer, Att—”