Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

There was absolutely no way to tell what time of day it was in the cavern. Damien had been surprisingly absent, something which pleased me to no end. When we emerged from our luxurious bath, it was to enter the bedchamber area comfortably clothed in a pair of pajamas—sharing the same pair of pajamas, that is.

Vance had grumbled extensively about Damien's taste in apparel and the apparent lack of what he had termed "real clothes" in his side of the closet.

I couldn't argue with him since most of mine looked like a cross between something straight off a corner on Hollywood Boulevard and an outfit from the Laura Croft Tomb Raider movies. So when Vance pulled out a pair of leopard print silk pajamas, saying he'd rather be dead than be caught wearing something like that, I suggested perhaps he could wear the bottoms and let me wear the top. They were certainly more modest than anything I'd been given.

Eyes sparkling with some fiendish looking delight, he handed it to me. I gave a small grin, taking it from him, all the while knowing exactly what he was thinking.

We both got dressed, and I thought he looked positively sinful with the silk bottoms slung low on his hips, showing off his delicious v-cut abs. My fingers itched to stroke them.

Looking at me appreciatively, he released out a low whistle, and I laughed. I couldn't even see my hands out of the ends of the sleeves and the shirttails hung almost to my kneecaps.

"Here. Let me help you with that," he said stepping closer and folding the cuff over several times until my hand and forearm emerged from the fabric.

"Well, what do you know? There was a limb in there after all!" I exclaimed facetiously, and he moved to fix the other side, chuckling with almost a snorting sound. A wide grin spread across his face, and in that moment, he looked like the Vance of days gone by.

"That's because you're such a tiny slip of a thing. You shouldn't be playing in big boy's clothes."

"Whatever!" I said drawing the word out, and I rolled my eyes at him. "That has to be one of the most male chauvinistic things I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

"If the shoe fits . . . ," he replied, lifting his eyebrow and letting his voice trail off.

Shoving at his bare chest with both hands, I pushed past him and walked toward the door, hearing him laughing behind me.

"Hey, Portia, wait up," he called before I reentered the main cavern.

"What's the matter?"

"Let me go first," he said, suddenly serious.

I let out a deep sigh. "Vance. You've got to quit trying to protect me. He can't hurt me. Not really."

Vance gathered me into his arms, gliding one of his hands over my damp hair until he came to the middle of my back.

"I know you're immortal again, and I'm still trying to resign myself to that fact. But he can hurt you. You might not be permanently injured, but he can harm you." His glance flitted carefully over my face, and he stroked my locks once more. "Besides," he added quietly, "I'm more afraid of the things he wants to do to you that wouldn't necessarily cause you physical pain."

"There's nothing he could do to me that wouldn't cause me physical pain," I grumbled, glancing down at his sculpted torso. Placing his hand under my chin, he turned my face back toward his, but I wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, and I slowly lifted my eyes. "He wants you. You know that, right? He wants you like I want you."

"Please don't cheapen yourself with that comparison," I snapped, attempting to push away, but he held me firm until I stopped struggling. I suddenly found myself missing my jinn powers, wishing I could pop away.