I translated that as centaur for “You’re full of crap.” But I acted as if I didn’t speak the lingo.

“Gosh, it’s been a long day.” Big yawn and stretch. “I think I’d better turn in.”

For a moment he didn’t react, he just looked at me oddly. Like he was trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. And suddenly I remembered how adamant Alanna had been about me not letting anyone know I wasn’t me. However confusing that might sound.

She had seemed kind of stressed and neurotic (even more than what was the norm for Suzanna), but her distress had been real. And let’s face it, she knew a lot more about what was going on in this world than I did. I had to assume she had good reasons to be paranoid. Yet she had told me that I could trust ClanFintan. At the very least I better keep my mouth shut about my origin until I had a chance to question Alanna.

So I did my best to blink innocently up at my too-curious, handsome, petable husband. Then I glanced behind us at the entrance to the barn. “Hey, could you please go in there first and make sure there’s nothing creeping or crawling around before I make up a pallet?”

His distracted look of concentration changed into a smile. “Of course.” He found Dougal, who had migrated over to the other fire, probably to give us some privacy. “Dougal, Lady Rhiannon needs two blankets.”

Dougal snapped to like a good boy.

“Come.” He stood, holding out a hand to help me up. “I will not let anything creep or crawl on you.”

I took his hand and we went into the shadowy interior of the barn. It wasn’t very big, and it was packed with hay bales. They were bound together in clumps with twine, which was stacked on top of one another. ClanFintan busied himself tossing around some clumps and untying others. By the time Dougal handed him a couple of blankets, he had made a nice little nest near the front of the barn. He lay one of the blankets on top of the nest and motioned for me to join him.

“There is nothing in here that can harm you.”

“Thanks. I don’t like things that slither or dart.” I sat in the middle of the nest and began pulling off my boots. He bent down and took over for me.

I really liked that about him.

The barn was dark and cozy and smelled like a newly cut field.

“Where are you guys sleeping?”

“We will take turns at watch. Between our turns at watch we will rest by the fires.”

“I’m the only one who will be sleeping in here?”

“Yes.” He cocked his head and I could see the white gleam of his teeth.

“So it wouldn’t be indecent of me if I slipped out of my pants?” I hate sleeping in pants.

“No, I believe that would be fine.” His voice had turned into liquid velvet again.

I took off my pants, folding them neatly and bending (using my best Marilyn Monroe imitation) at the waist to set them on a convenient clump of hay. I knew his eyes were on me, and I liked it. Curling up on my blanket-covered hay nest, I lay back and smiled up at him.

He covered me with the other blanket.

“Good night. Sleep well, Rhiannon.” He didn’t turn to leave.

“When is your turn to watch?” What the hell, he was my husband.

“Not until well after moonrise.”

“Then would you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“If you like.”

“I like.”

I sat up and scooted over, making room for his considerable bulk. He stepped into the nest and reclined. It was like he was sitting behind me—the human part of his torso was tall, but not so large that it was awkward. I gave him a chance to get situated, and then I leaned back so that the top part of my body rested comfortably against his chest and in his arms. I shifted position so that I was facing him, still resting in his arms.

My hair was acting crazy, as usual. Drying by the fire had made it curl like Medusa’s. He brushed some of it back out of my face.

“Sorry. It gets in the way a lot. I should cut it short.” I blew a stray strand out of my mouth.

He blinked at me in surprise. “Women do not cut their hair.”

Oops. “It might be easier if we did.” Crap. Wonder if he’d noticed that my hair was shorter than Rhiannon’s? Hastily I added, “When Alanna trimmed it the other day I should have told her to take a little more off.”

“Short hair might be easier, but less attractive.” He sounded like a typical guy. They love long hair. And, quite frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You may have a point.”

“Yes.” His stray hand caressed my hair, getting tangled in the mass of it. He lifted his hand, still enclosed in my hair, leaned down and buried his face in the middle of it. His movement sandwiched me against his chest and I felt, more than heard, his breathy moan.

He lifted his face out of my hair and our eyes met. Our faces were very close to one another.

“So, you like my hair?” His eyes traveled to my mouth as I whispered the question.

“I am finding that I like many things about you.”

I smiled softly at him. “You sound surprised.”

His gaze shifted back to my eyes. “I am.”

“Don’t be. What you see is really who I am.” Before he could get me backed into a conversation Alanna would not approve of, I reached up and pulled his mouth down to mine.

I wondered if I would ever get used to the feel of him. He was like liquid heat and as he explored my mouth, my mind wandered to other places on my body I’d like him to explore. I felt goose bumps rise all the way down my spine and I moaned against his lips.

And he pulled away from me. Just a little, but I felt the absence of his warmth like a cold wind.

“Why did you stop?” I sounded hungry.

“You need to sleep.” He sighed and tapped my nose with one of his fingertips. “And I need to stop this before I forget that I cannot allow myself to shape-shift.”

His finger had moved from my nose and was now tracing the line of my lips. That was giving me goose bumps, too.

“Oh yeah.” I caught his finger between my teeth and bit down, gently. I was gratified to feel the sharp intake of his breath. I let his finger go with a kiss. “That’s a bummer.”

“What is a bummer?”

“A bummer is you not being able to allow yourself to shape-shift tonight.”

“A bummer is a bad thing.”

“Very bad.” We smiled at each other like teenagers.