Once back in front of her door, she simply stared at him. He met her stare and held it. He’d protect her whether she wanted it or not.

“Give me some space, Dacian. I need to spend tonight alone in my room without you or Asima crowding me.”

He understood the need for alone time. And so he decided to compromise again. Damn, he hadn’t done this much compromising ever. He’d always been a my-way kind of guy. He nodded. “For tonight. I’ll hang around in the hall. I’ll know if someone gets into your room.”

She looked troubled. Evidently the thought of Airmid being able to simply materialize in her room bothered Cinn. It should. You didn’t mess with goddesses. He’d found they were a lot more dangerous than the gods because they held grudges longer.

“Thank you.”

Her relief that he wouldn’t be sleeping on her couch sort of ticked him off. Yeah, it was all about ego. Because even with his scars and his attitude, he’d never had problems attracting women when he wanted them.

As she closed her door behind her, Dacian once again felt the light brush against his mind that he could now identify as Vince. Only this time it wasn’t quite so tentative.

“Got it.”

The shock of hearing the voice stopped him dead. He reeled back his memory, trying to remember what he’d said to Vince. “I don’t make polite with anyone dropping in uninvited. Got it?” Holy shit. The plant could talk, or at least it was learning to talk. Maybe Cinn needed to think about what she was creating out in that greenhouse. For now, he’d keep his mouth shut about Vince. If the plant wanted to talk to her, it would. It wasn’t any of Dacian’s business.

No way could he settle down outside her door. He had too much suppressed energy, so he started to pace. He moved silently, but he wasn’t worried about other guests discovering him. They’d all be asleep.

Every time he passed Cinn’s door, he saw the room’s name, Wicked Intentions. By the time he’d passed it for the hundredth time, it had become his mantra. What he wanted to do with her had no goodness and light attached to it. He’d had plenty of time to let his imagination run amok, and what he had planned for the plant lady would scare her shitless.

He was working on the second hundred trips up and down the damn hall when he sensed the presence. Its power wrapped around him and he had to exert all of his own strength to keep it at bay. What the hell was it? Airmid? Possibly. She’d want to take out any possible protectors before going after Cinn.