Man by day, Centaur by night, Rhycious is a remedy maker who needs his own healing.
He's the royal physician, famous for his cures. War and posttraumatic stress disorder has broken his spirit, preventing him from finding true happiness. Then a direct order from the queen to investigate an uprising forces him out of his secluded cabin at the edge of the forest.
Patience is an optimistic, good-natured Wood Nymph who works as a mediator to ensure harmony within the Nymph sector.
Environmental pollution in the aquifer stream that feeds the taproot tree of her heart is slowly killing her. Resigned to the fact she will not live long, she sets out to discover the mysterious disappearance of her sister. Experience has taught her to deny herself the love of a male, but the gruff Centaur is different. He doesn't push his expectations on her, only his healing nature.
When Rhycious loses his grip on reality, he believes his inability to control his disorder will drive Patience away. Nevertheless, desire flares, and Patience draws him close. Kidnapping and betrayal turn their mythic joint venture into a deadly bout.
Will their love endure when survival hinges on trusting each other?
“Should we practice our joint effort, polytima, and see how good we can be together?”
How much hotter could they possibly get? Much as she hated flames, her body burned hot enough to internally combust.
“Rhycious!” she cried out, going for a scolding tone. But it came across as a sensual invitation.
His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her the wasted millimeter of space nearer. Patience’s mind spun. A man who wanted her was holding her in his arms. She closed her eyes. His mouth traveled up her throat, licking and sucking, until he settled over her lips once more. Persistent and demanding, his tongue slid along the seam until she complied and opened.
He charged right in like a Centaur warrior would, drawing her tongue into battle with his. Feinting and parrying, they slid sensuously against one another.
“My gods, Patience. You taste so damn good.”
And Rhycious tasted of pure Elysium, sending a tingle of exquisite warmth to a spot deep within her. A breathless tension coiled. “Your coffee tastes better than mine.”
His hand cupping her bottom alternated between kneading the cheek and rubbing sumptuous circles. The clench of desire increased between her thighs. She moaned her approval. His other hand traveled upward from her waist and settled under the heavy fall of hair, massaging the base of her skull.
Rhycious backed her up until her knees hit the couch, and buckled. He followed her down, arranging her body to stretch out beneath him, his hips spreading her thighs wide. Leaning on one elbow, he used his free hand to push the hair off her face. His feral gleam intensified, and his tawny eyes bore into hers.
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