Gena Showalter Bundle. Gena Showalter
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tracing a finger along her nose. “But now I must go.” Without another word, he slipped around her and strode away.
Curse? “Where are you going?” The man had materialized in her garden, wearing nothing but a smile, and thought he could leave without any type of explanation? Oh, that just pissed her off, made her forget any lingering hint of fear. He was big enough to hurt her, yes, but she was mad enough to inflict some major damage of her own. “I demand you tell me who you are and how you transformed from stone to man.”
In a graceful motion at odds with his size and previous inflexibility, he spun around to face her. His eyes possessed a wistful quality. In a mere snap of time, his soft expression mutated into potent fury, like fire across a night sky, both hot and cold at the same time. “A woman has no right to issue such a demand.”
Had a sword been strapped to his waist, she felt certain he would have unsheathed it just then—and used it on her! He was tense and ready, like a vengeful hunter inspecting cornered prey.
Unexpectedly, he turned and again strode away.
Just let him go, she thought. But Katie found herself calling out, “Wait!” She jolted after him and latched on to his arm. A puny action, really, but he stopped all the same. “You can’t leave. You’re naked.”
He took his time facing her this time. When he did, he arched one brow in an insolent salute and gazed down at her. “You know not your place, woman.”
His words expressed displeasure. But his voice was husky and richly intent, and resonated a secret, carnal meaning meant only for lovers. Did he realize what his tone had just suggested? He stared down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and erotically inviting. Her nerve-endings sparked with renewed life. Oh, yes. He knew. He knew exactly what he’d suggested, and if she gave him the slightest encouragement, he’d strip her down and put her “in her place.”
Katie gulped, feigning ignorance. “I own this land. This is my place.”
“’Tis not what I meant and well you know it. Someday a man will show you exactly where you belong by giving you the savage bedding you silently asked for each time you passed through this garden.”
Hearing the actual words proved more potent than the veiled innuendo, and she jerked her fingers from their tenuous hold on his bicep. What stung was that there was nothing she could say to discount him. Only five minutes ago she had caressed the stone man’s nipples, wrapped her palm around his penis (twice!), and kissed his lips.
This wasn’t any friend of her brothers’.
The truth of it danced through her, undeniable now in every way. Her brothers would never allow a man to intimidate her like this. Or even invite her to participate in a night of debauchery. Not even for a joke.
“Only a proper bedding will teach you proper respect for a warrior,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have not the time to instruct you. Now, I thank you once again, katya, but I must return home.” Then, for the third time, he tried to abandon her.
In this instance, however, he stopped without her urging.
He glanced left then right, studying the horizon. He cursed in a language she didn’t understand, then spun around to face her. A scowl marred the perfection of his features. “I have just realized you are a necessary burden, for I know nothing of your world beyond this enclosure.”
Her brows knit at “necessary burden.” Her nostrils flared at his next words.
“Take me to the nearest sorcerer.”
“No way in hell,” she shot back.
He crossed his arms over his chest. The stubborn stance said that he was a man used to issuing commands and receiving instant compliance. Normally she wouldn’t even think twice about confronting someone with an overabundance of testosterone. But the way this guy was looking at her, as if he was a king and she was his royal subject headed for the guillotine, almost made her jump into action.
“You will do as I say or—” He stopped abruptly. His eyes widened. “Curse it! There is something else I had forgotten in the excitement of returning to my homeland.” He bared his teeth in a scowl. “’Tis something I would as soon forget again, but cannot, for my continued freedom depends upon it.”
“What?”
“To begin, I must bed you.”
Katie stifled a gasp of alarm. Or maybe it was a gasp of anticipation. Maybe even anger that he’d said he would rather forget her. Whichever the reason, she’d already lost all claims to sanity. Any other woman would have run screaming for help before he’d finished his last sentence. Bed her, indeed.
Silence stretched between them. With each passing second, she became increasingly aware of his nakedness, of him. She smelled his warm, masculine scent, felt the caress of his gaze over each and every part ofherbodyasif she were naked. Her blood heated, and her hormones raced into overdrive, calling out, “I’ll take you, I’ll take you, and I’ll do anything you want.”
“I won’t discuss bedding you,” she said, cutting through the silence, “but I will tell you that there are no sorcerers.”
For a moment his expression became unguarded, revealing pain and fury, but also desolation, a desolation that tied her stomach in a thousand tiny knots. “We do have psychics,” she added, willing to say anything to wipe away such bleakness.
“Psychics?”
Was he purposefully acting perplexed or did he truly not know? “Psychics are people who claim they can tell the future with supernatural powers. You know, through magic.”
He paused, considering her words. “I seek someone who wields magic, so aye, your psychic will do nicely.” Despite his now amiable tone, cold determination claimed the lines of his jaw. “Now, take off your clothes. When both our bodies are sated, I will allow you to take me to the psychic.”
He would allow her? Gee, thanks. “My answer is no,” she said firmly. “On all counts.”
The blue of his eyes sparkled like ice chips in a winter storm and was the only warning she received about his intentions. Before she had time to blink, he was on her, pinning her back against a statue. She knew she should have been scared, but she wasn’t. She was strangely aroused.
I don’t know anything about this man, she reminded herself. She didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or if he kicked little puppies when no one was watching. Her long-ignored body sprang to life, anyway. Her nipples strained for contact, and her hips arched forward, arched into him. Bedding him didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the moment.
“I did not ask you, katya, I commanded that it be so.” The low timbre of his voice held the steely edge of a sword.
She gulped, unsure whether she was still turned on or if she was deathly afraid. The man oozed power and authority and if she didn’t get his mind out of the gutter, hers would be joining him there. “Uh, about the psychic. All business establishments are closed until tomorrow morning.”
He paused. “When the sun rises, you will take me to see this man of magic. I will have your word on it.” His lips parted as he awaited her answer, giving a hint of the pearly whites beneath. “As for the bedding—”
“If you finish that sentence, I swear to God I’ll never take you to see a psychic.”
His mouth tightly closed, and he remained quiet, though anger seethed just below the surface of his skin.
Wow. She hadn’t expected the threat to work, but now that it had…“I want you to answer some questions for me.”
His expression darkened. He surprised her by barking, “Ask.”
So she did. “How did you make the stone disappear?”
The fine lines around his mouth pulled taut.
She waited, hoping to hear words like new next-door neighbor, trap door and silver paint. Instead,