Brighid's Mark by Cate Morgan

over her. Being a gentlemen of a different era, he tugged the crisp, white top sheet over them as he pressed her into the mattress, and never stopped kissing her. The rhythm of the city pulsed around them, in their blood. Urgency warred with an equal need to savor every moment. Then he sank against her and she was lost, lost, lost.
    And she couldn’t recall a single damned rule, nor the reasons for them.
    There was only light.
     
     
    Callie was one of nature’s sprawlers. Pillows, covers, Liam himself—nothing within reach was safe from the Keeper’s long, muscular limbs in repose. Liam took the opportunity to trace every scar, count every freckle. Everything about her fascinated him, from the unmitigated chaos of her hair to the calluses of her sword hand.
    A sleepy frown crossed her face when his fingers grazed over the lines of her Mark for the third or fourth time. “What are you doing?”
    “Wondering what my father would have made of you.”
    That woke her up. Her eyes fluttered open, moonlight turning them the color of pale ale. “He would’ve found me off-putting.” She turned onto her back, amused. “So prior to bed, you push perfectly innocent women through windows, and for afters you brood on your father? Aren’t I the lucky one?”
    He grinned. “Someone has to do the cooking—and the driving, I understand.”
    “Word gets around.” She cushioned her head on her bent arm, crushing her hair. “What brought on thoughts of your dad? Besides my staggering lack of domesticity, I mean?”
    Liam shifted onto his side, propping his head with one hand. The other he browsed over her bare skin. Callie was gloriously uninhibited in her nudity. “He’s the reason I’m here.”
    “Your Crossroads bargain?”
    He nudged her tumbled curls aside, the better to see her face. “My father was a bit of a bastard. Well, more than a bit, to be honest. Gambler, lecher, drunk. Finally his vices pulled us into such a black pit the only way out was for me to marry into money. Had a girl all picked out. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against him. So I left.” He swallowed. “I made my Crossroads bargain, and I left him to die in impoverished obscurity.”
    Callie pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. “Do you regret it?”
    He considered her question carefully. “No,” he decided, brow clearing. “I should. I’ve tried. But I don’t.”
    “Good.” Callie knotted her legs through his and pulled him close. “Life’s too short for regrets, even for us.”
    “Callie.” He settled her back against the nest of pillows before she could drown his senses again. “Do me a favor.” He tapped her nose at her sudden Cheshire grin. “Stop that. I don’t mean that kind of favor.”
    “Then what? Work on my driving?”
    “Callie,” he repeated, half in exasperation. He touched her forehead with his, lingering over her mouth. “Please. Just try not to get yourself killed, all right?”
    She sobered. “You my Keeper now, all tall, dark-eyed and broody?”
    He smiled. “Seems to me you could do with one.”
    It was Callie’s turn to trace the Marks over Liam’s chest. “I have to go back in,” she said. “But I can’t do it alone. The only way this works is if we do it together.”
    Liam kissed the tip of her nose. “What do you need me to do?”
    Her wicked grin reappeared, and she reached for him. “Since you mention it…”
     
     
    “You’re with him now.”
    Callie looked up from lacing her boots. Chase leaned against the open library door, arms crossed. She could hear the shower upstairs, and muffled, off-key humming. “Now isn’t a good time.” Truly told, she’d hoped to save this conversation for later, once she’d decided what to do.
    “When will it be, Callie? We both know this could be your last rodeo.”
    She smiled through her exasperation. She desperately needed to be alone with her thoughts, and her feelings. “Every rodeo could be my last. That never changes.”
    He