I pushed Kitto away. I lifted my foot off the bed, carefully, using the bedside table to stand up.

"What are you doing?" Doyle asked.

"I am going to clean some of this blood and dirt off, then go to bed." I looked at the men gathered in the room. "Who wants to help me run my bath?"

The silence was suddenly very thick. The men looked at one another as if not sure what to do, or say. Galen stepped forward, gave me his hand to help me stand. I took the hand, but shook my head. "You can't be with me tonight, Galen. It has to be someone who can finish what we start."

He looked at the floor for a second or two, then up. "Oh." He helped me back to the bed and I let him do it, then he walked to the chair where he'd thrown his leather jacket. "I'm going to see about getting a second room next to this one, then I'm going for a walk. Who's going with me?"

They all looked at each other again, little eye flits from one to the other. No one seemed to know how to handle the situation. "How does the queen choose between you all?" I asked.

"She simply requests the guard, or guards, she wishes to have for the evening," Doyle said.

"Don't you have a preference?" Frost asked, and there was something almost hurt in his tone.

"You say that like there's a bad choice here. There is no bad choice; you are all lovely."

"I have had my release with Meredith," Doyle said, "so I will bow out for tonight."

That got everyone's attention, and Doyle had to explain very briefly exactly what he meant by the comment. Frost and Rhys looked at each other, and suddenly there was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You must choose, Meredith," Frost said.

"Why?" I asked.

Galen answered, "You can't bring it down to just two of us without the danger of a duel."

"It's not just two, it's three," I said.

They all looked at me, then slowly at the goblin still on the bed. He looked as surprised as they did. He stared back at us with large eyes. He looked almost frightened. "I would never presume to compete with the sidhe."

"Kitto is coming in the bathroom regardless of who else comes in," I said.

Every pair of eyes in the room swiveled back to me. "What did you say?" Doyle asked.

"You heard me. I want the alliance with the goblins sealed, that means I have to share flesh with Kitto, and that's what I'm going to do."

Galen went for the door. "I'll be back later."

"Wait for me," Rhys said.

"You're leaving?" I asked.

"As much as I want you, Merry, I don't do goblins." He walked out with Galen; they shut the door behind them, and Doyle locked it.

"Does this mean you're staying?" I asked.

"I will guard the outer door," Doyle said.

"What if we wish to use the bed?" Frost asked.

Doyle looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "I can wait just outside the room if you feel the need of the bed."

There was a little more negotiating. Frost wanted it clear that he did not have to touch the goblin. I agreed. Frost picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. Kitto was already in the room running the water for the bath. He glanced up as we entered. He'd taken off Galen's shirt and was back to just his silver thong. He said nothing to us, just watched us with his huge blue eyes, one hand trailing under the water as it poured from the faucet.

Frost looked around the small room. He finally sat me on the counter by the sink. He stood in front of me, and suddenly it was awkward. The kiss in the car had been wonderful, but it was the first time Frost and I had ever touched each other. Now suddenly we were supposed to have sex—with an audience.

"Awkward, isn't it?" I said.

He nodded. The movement sent that thin veil of silver hair gliding around his body. He reached out, slowly, tentatively, to the dress's jacket. He pushed the velvet off my shoulders, slowly, sliding it over my arms. I started to help him with the sleeves, but he said, "No, let me."

I put my hands back at my sides, and he pulled the sleeves off one hand, then the other. He dropped the jacket to the floor. He ran the tips of his fingers down the bare skin of my shoulders. It raised goose bumps down to my fingertips.

"Undo your hair," I said.

He took out the first bone clip, then the second, and the hair fell around him in a glorious spill of Christmas-tree tinsel. I reached out and grabbed a handful of it. It looked like silver wire, but it felt soft as satin, with a texture like spun silk.

He stepped close enough that his legs brushed mine. He ran his hands over my bare arms. His touches were so tentative, as if he was afraid to caress me. "If you will lean forward, I will unzip the dress."

I did what he asked, leaning my head against his chest. The sheer material of his shirt was scratchy, but his hands as they unzipped the dress were slow, gentle. His fingertips slid inside the open dress, circling the smooth skin of my back.

I tried to pull the shirt out of his pants, but it wouldn't budge. "I can't get the shirt out."

"It is fastened so it lies smoothly," he said.

"Fastened?" I made the word a question.

"I would have to take the pants off to get the shirt off." He was blushing, a wonderful pale red rose color.

"What's wrong, Frost?"

The bathwater stopped running. Kitto said, "The water is ready, Mistress."

"Thank you, Kitto." I looked at Frost. "Answer the question, Frost. What's wrong?"

He looked down, all that shining hair acting like a curtain. He turned away from me to face the far wall, so even the goblin couldn't see his face.

"Frost, please don't make me hop down from the counter to make you look at me. I don't need to twist another ankle."

He spoke without turning around. "I do not trust myself with you."

"In what way?" I asked.

"In the way of a man with a woman."

I still wasn't understanding him. "I still don't understand, Frost."

He turned suddenly to face me, eyes a dark storm grey with anger. "I want to fall on you like some ravening beast. I don't want to be gentle. I just want."

"Are you saying you don't trust yourself not to… " I searched for a word, but had to settle for, "rape me?"

He nodded.

I laughed, I couldn't help it. I knew he wouldn't like the laughter, but I just couldn't help it.

His face grew arrogant, distant, eyes cold but still angry. "What do you want of me, Meredith?"

"Frost, forgive me, but you can't rape the willing."

He frowned at that, as if he didn't understand the phrasing.

"I want to have sex with you tonight. That's the plan. How can that be rape?"

He shook his head, sending the hair sliding around him, sparkling in the light. "You do not understand. I do not trust that I can control myself."

"In what way?"

"In every way!" He turned away again, hugging himself.

I finally began to get an inkling of what he was trying to say. "Are you concerned that you won't last long enough for my pleasure?"

"That and…"

"What, Frost, what?"

"He wants to fuck you," Kitto said.

We both looked at the goblin still kneeling by the bathtub. "I know that," I said.

Kitto shook his head. "Not sex, just fucking. He's been so long without, he just wants to do it."

I looked at Frost. He was avoiding my eyes. "Is that what you want?"

He hung his head, hiding behind all that hair. "I want to strip off your panties, put you up against the sink, and just be inside you. I don't feel gentle tonight, Meredith. I feel half-crazed."

"Then do it," I said.

He turned and stared at me. "What did you say?"

"Do it, just the way you want it. Eight hundred years, you're entitled to a little fantasy."

He frowned. "But it won't be enjoyable for you."

"Let me worry about that. You forget that I'm descended from fertility gods. As many times as you go inside me, I can bring you back to need with a touch of my hand, a tiny use of power. Just because we begin the night here, doesn't mean we have to end it here."

"You would let me do that?"

I looked at him, standing there with his broad shoulders, the swell of his chest peeking through that glorious hair, the narrow waist, the tight hips encased in those so-tight pants. I thought about him dropping those pants, of seeing him nude for the first time, of having him push himself inside me, urgent, so full of need that he would touch nothing, do nothing but shove himself inside me. I had to let my breath go in a sigh before I could speak. "Yes."

He crossed the room in two strides, lifting me off the counter, setting me on the floor. I had to balance on the bad ankle, but he didn't give me time to protest. He pulled the dress off my arms in one abrupt movement. I had to grab the edge of the counter to keep from falling. He jerked the dress down, letting it pool on the floor around my feet. He grabbed the black satin of the panties and pulled them down, too.

I could see Kitto in the foggy mirror. He watched everything with eager eyes, utterly silent, as if he didn't want to break the spell.

Frost had to unlace the pants, and it took time. He was making a small noise low in his throat by the time he had gotten them unfastened and peeled down his body. The shirt was fastened over his groin, and he ripped the material away. He was long and hard and more than ready. I had a glimpse of him over my shoulder, then his hands were on my waist, turning me to face the fogged mirror.

I had a moment of feeling him sliding against me, then he was inside me. He shoved against the tightness of my body, forcing himself into me. I'd given him permission, wanted him, but with almost no foreplay it was still pain with the pleasure. A bruising, almost tearing pressure brought my breath in a gasp that was both pain and desire. When he was sheathed inside me as far as he could go, he whispered, "You're tight—not ready for me—but you are wet."

My voice came out breathy. "I know."

He drew himself out, part way, then in, and after that there was nothing but his body inside mine. His need was large and fierce and so was he. He thrust into me as hard and as fast as he could. The sound of flesh hitting flesh punctuated every thrust of his body. It forced sounds from my throat, from the sheer force of it, and from the sensations as he moved inside me, over me, through me. My body opened to him, no longer tight, just wet.