From my vantage point I can see the back of his neck flush pink beneath his collar. He's got freckles there, too. I wonder how many more freckle's he's got. Are they all over, or just where the sun's touched?Good Lord, why am I thinking of Finn Belastra without his clothes on?

Get on with it," Mrs. O'Hare prompts, and I do, wrapping the bandage snugly over Finn's instep and up his calf― which is sinewy with muscle, covered in fine coppery hair and more freckles. I'm fascinated by the pattern they form over his skin. Do they go all the way up his leg?I flush scarlet at the the thought.

I feel us tilting toward each other like trees in a strong breeze. I've been craving the sight of him for days, but now its not enough. I'm not sure who moves first. The inches between us are erased until I'm in his arms and my mouth finds his.

I give Finn a wicked smile. "Don't you think a peg leg would be charming? Like a pirate? The first mate of the Calypso had one, didn't he?""It would add a certain rakish factor. Have you got a spare eye patch?""Be serious, you two. Gangrene is no laughing matter," Mrs. O'Hare scolds.

I have never been this close to a man before. Something stirs deep, pulsing through my body, and its quite like the tug of magic, buts its not the magic; this is something entirely different, just between Finn and me and this moment.

He may not have said the words, but I know my son. I saw the way he looked at you.""How?""Like he'd do murder for you.

Finns squares his shoulders—which have gotten a good deal sturdier since I last saw him. Or paid attention, at any rate. How long has it been since I actually looked? He's gotten awfully handsome; it can't have happened overnight.