“If you don’t take him,” Evie said, “I will.”
“Hunter,” was all Glory managed to get out.
“He’s only good for the night. Maybe I’m looking for a day man.”
Glory elbowed her sister in the stomach.
Evie backed off, taking Godiva with her. “Come on. Let’s give the lovebirds their privacy and listen from the kitchen where Glory can’t assault us.” Footsteps echoed.
Could he truly love her? Her? Could he live with a witch and not fear for his life? She studied his face. Lines of tension edged his eyes and mouth. His lips were drawn tight. He was pale. His hair looked as if he’d plowed his hands through it for hours.
He really was worried she’d say no.
“Last night wasn’t enough,” he rushed on. “Forever probably won’t be enough. You’re all I can think about, all I crave. I’m addicted to you. I know you’re scared, but I vow to you, here and now, to protect you, cherish you, trust you. I know you aren’t evil. That’s something you don’t have to fear. I know you’re good and pure and—”
“I love you, too,” she finally said. Making a leap, trusting him like he was trusting her.
She laughed as she wound her arms around his neck. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve never been surer about anything in my life. You’re my witch, and I love you. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to ever push you away.” Grinning, he spun her around.
Her head fell back, hair flying, and she laughed again, joyful, content.
He stopped, peered down at her, his grin melting away, burned as it was by desire. “Okay, now I’m turned on. That laugh of yours . . .”