Chapter Eight
Mike snapped some twigs and fed the fire. His gaze moved from the glowing worms that made their home in the tree to the woman sleeping across from him. He’d been trying not to stare at her but realized it was an impossible endeavor, especially in the cramped confines of their shelter.
“Marina Fae of the Isle of Magic. She’s a witch, of course,” Mike murmured under his breath. “A witch! A beautiful, exotic, daring, and brave witch.”
He ran his gaze over her relaxed face. Wisps of her dark wavy hair caressed her cheek. Her coloring reminded him of the forest. Her dark brown and gold hair and tanned skin had the same highlights of the tree trunks with the sun shining on it. Her dark lashes lay like crescents against her sun-kissed cheeks. Her nose was long and slender while h
