He shifts his weight, and his hands flex, as if bracing for a fight. “I will not let any harm come to you.”

“I know you won’t.” Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.

While I grip the rope railing, Everett strolls straight down the middle of the bridge, as if unbothered by the way the planks sway. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned by the silence that has descended between us either.

There are so many questions on the tip of my tongue, but I’m not quite sure how to start. I want to know everything about Everett and the Unseelie. What makes them different from us and what makes us the same.

Don’t ask me why.

Perhaps one day I will write a book of true facts that will put that grossly misleading one Trevor gave me out of print.

Although, I’m not sure my drawings could do Everett justice.

Since I will never see him disrobed, they wouldn’t be wholly accurate either. Imagine me, asking this man to remove his trousers. The very thought makes it almost impossible to swallow.

Everett comes to an abrupt halt. “Are you all right? You sound as if you are choking.”

Someone push me off this bridge right now before I die of mortification. “I’m just…um…” Just what? Picturing him naked, that’s what.

Sod it. I might leap off this bloomin’ bridge myself.

He waits patiently for me to compose myself, and when I finally do, all I can think to say is, “I’m having trouble breathing.”

He steps closer, his brow crushed with concern. The heat of his skin and the smells of leather and warm spring rain that seem to cling to him isn’t helping the breathing situation.

“Am I walking too fast? Do you need me to go slower?”

“No. No. You’re perfect.” Tell me I did not just blurt out that I think this man is perfect. Get it together, Kerris. “What I mean is, everything is fine. Please, proceed.”

He studies me from head to toe. He mustn’t find anything amiss, because he starts walking again, only this time his pace is considerably slower.

When we reach the other side, I hear the distinct sound of laughter drifting from the mist.

My heart shouldn’t sink. After all, if I want to know all about the Unseelie, I need to meet more than just one of them. But part of me is gutted that Everett and I won’t be spending the evening by ourselves.

A few more steps and we come upon a campfire where two Unseelie fae wait, not facing the flames, but turned toward us.

I recognize them from the well, but when I offer a tentative smile, neither of them returns it.