okay?”
He really seemed uncertain.
“You didn’t hurt me. It was—amazing. Intense.” She frowned and lightly smacked his chest. “We weren’t going to have sex again.”
He smiled gently, tucking a wet strand of her hair behind her ear. “Then we’re in luck. There was no sex that time. Only love making.”
She didn’t know why, but that made her want to cry. He couldn’t have said anything more perfect, or more guilt inducing.
“I love you, Fauna.”
She bit back her own ready response, wanting to say the words to him, too. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t let herself love another magical being. It was doomed for failure. What kind of life would they lead with faery and elemental intervention at every turn? What kind of future was that?
It wasn’t one. She knew that better than Cooper ever could. He’d been full elemental his whole life, and apparently an active elemental in his community of other elementals. He didn’t have to live in the human world at all, if he didn’t want to.
Fauna hadn’t the choice. Half-faery, half-human, she lived in the human world with a faery prank bestowed on her. Invisibility without knowing when it would happen or being able to stop it, wasn’t a gift. It was a curse. She had to incorporate that life-altering mess into a human existence. Was it any wonder she didn’t trust magical beings for all their trickery?
If she stayed with Cooper and had children, they’d be part human too. What kind of insanity would she be relegating them too? Holiday dinners around an elemental dinner table? The weakest of the magical beings—aside from Fauna—and taunted by other little beasty children? Where lighting candles with one’s fingertip was normal?
Cooper held her through her silence. “I know you aren’t ready. It’s okay. As long as you know I love you, I’ll wait through anything.”
Fauna dragged her hand down his chest. Looking at the contrast between her pale skin tone and his naturally bronzed body. She blinked, not comprehending why she didn’t see her hand on him, then blinked again.
Cool fingers of dread twisted her stomach.
“I’m still invisible,” she said. It took a minute for the words to sink in. Her gaze shot to his. “I’m still invisible.”
Cooper smiled uncomfortably.
“I’m invisible. But. You’re looking at me.” Fauna’s eyes narrowed, watching for any change in his expression.
“That’s not entirely true,” he hedged.
“What part?” she demanded to know.
“You’re invisible,” he began. “To the human eye. Heat signatures are there even when you aren’t visible. I can see you when you disappear.”
“Of course you can,” she groused. Fauna swallowed hard. “Explain.”
She shivered, partly from the damp and partly from knowing he’d tell her something she didn’t really want to hear but should probably know about him.
She stepped away from him and out of the shower. Cooper followed her into the bedroom where she put her night shirt back on. She faced him, arms folded across her chest. Fortunately, she felt the magical tingle fade and knew she’d returned to normal.
“You have body heat. Think of the infrared security cameras we have.”
“Oh, God.” She swallowed the words, as she realized exactly what that meant. Every single time she thought she’d been invisible to him, she hadn’t been. That’s what he’s saying, right?
“That’s not bad. That’s good,” he assured her. “Just think, you’ve finally met someone where your faery ability won’t get in the way of a relationship.”
“Nice positive spin there,” she said sarcastically. “You couldn’t have mentioned this sooner?”
“You mean like, when I was jacking off, and you watched? When I know that you’re staring at me, and I like it?”
She winced. “Any one of those times would have been fabulous.”
“You just found out what I am. I could hardly tell you before that.”
“Hello?