Byrd's Desire by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page B

nice.”
    His eyes met hers, warm and bright. “Then go take one, woman.”
    She gazed at the dirty dishes and kitchen mess. “I’m fixin’ to clean this up first.  What are you going to do, sprawl on the couch?”
    Byrd laughed. “I would but I thought I’d take a flight for fun, then come back before moonrise. It’ll help me clear my head for tonight.”
    Hmm. I clean up, he goes out joyriding.  He may be immortal but he’s a man just the same.  Some of the irritation must have been evident in her expression because Byrd touched her hand. “Problem?”
    Busted, she smiled in spite of her thoughts. “No.  Well, maybe yes.  I was just thinking you’re not much different than any other man sometimes.  Women cook and clean, and the men go out having fun.”
    His grin made her heart cut flips. “ Winuhca, it’s not like that.  I’m not very domestic and I’d break more dishes than I’d get washed if I tried.  I can see you’re tired and I’m no good at sitting on the porch, waiting.  I don’t watch your television so I thought I’d give you space.  I thought you’d understand.”
    Now that he p ut it that way, Celia did understand.  He evoked the wise and beautiful words of Kahlil Gibran, ones she’d memorized after a college literature course and never forgotten.  She spoke them now. “But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you.”
    Byrd cocked his head and nodded. “Yes.  Is that poetry?”
    “It’s Kahlil Gibran,” she said, as if that explained everything. “He was a poet and writer with beautiful ideas.”
    “He expresses it well.” Byrd rose from the table.  “Are we good, then?”
    They were, so she nodded. “Yes.”
    He kissed her with a lingering echo of the heat between them but a deeper sense of commitment and togetherness tempered it too.  Then he walked outside and Celia did the necessary chores without bothering to peer through the window to watch him transform.
    As soon as the kitchen sparkled with cleanliness, she curled up on one of the leather couches beneath a light quilt and slept, tired but content.
     

Chapter Six
     
    The western sky turned vivid shades of orange , tempered with grays and a touch of deep purple, as the sun slid toward the horizon.  Celia had always enjoyed sunset but she’d developed a deeper appreciation for sundown in Oklahoma.  The width of the sky and the lack of man-made objects blocking the view appealed to her.  She stepped out onto the porch, dressed in simple black jeans and a white silk camisole.  Byrd wasn’t back yet but she expected him any moment.
    After awakening from her nap, she’d showered and changed.  She wondered if she should cook and decided against it.  If they were hungry after whatever they did, she’d deal with it then, not now.  An evening breeze wafted against her, light as a lover’s breath, and caressed her face with invisible fingers. She sighed with pleasure and longing for Byrd.
    As if she’d summoned him, she saw him winging across the sky, his large shape noticeable against the majestic sunset.  He landed a few feet away and shifted.  A few stray feathers danced in the faint wind.   In the last rays of the setting sun, Byrd’s skin appeared bronze and he looked perfect in every way.  His black hair rippled down his back unbound and when he faced her, Celia saw with delight he was already erect.  Good , she thought. No preliminaries, no awkward small talk, just getting down to the main event.
    She stepped forward and he closed the space between them with two strides.  Byrd seized her and drew her into the close circle of his arms.  His bare skin impacted her silk and the bare flesh beneath.  “Oh, winuhca,” he sighed. “It’s time.”
    Celia lacked words but she stood on her toes to kiss him, her lips lingering against his mouth with slow, certain heat.  Her eyes caught his as they kissed and she’d swear she caught a glimpse