over to lifelessness.
She shook her head to rid it of the image. “I’ll just go first, then. We can figure out dinner in a while.”
But, having said that, she couldn’t force herself to move. A strand of his hair had fallen across his cheek as he bent his head and unpacked the groceries, and she stared at the glossy blackness of it, wanting nothing more than to raise her hand and smooth it back from his face. To step into his arms and, for once in her
be strong, be brave, be self-reliant, be independent
life—just for one damn time—let someone else be strong.
To let
him
be strong. Just for a moment.
He looked up and caught her staring at him. Must have read something in her eyes. Took a step toward her. “Kat, there’s something I need to—”
“No! I mean, no, there’s nothing,” she heard herself babbling but was powerless to stop. “Well, you should just, I’ll go. Now. I’ll—”
He blinked, probably wondering who the crazy womanwas and what she’d done with Kat, and the sheer humiliation of it all snapped her weird paralysis, and she ran. Ran again, by way of stumbling down the hall to the bathroom. Ran away from the first man who’d ever made her feel safe.
Bastien pushed open the door and headed outside. He knew he wasn’t imagining it. There had been a moment. A capital M Moment, right there in the kitchen. Whatever it was that had taken over his mind and senses, Kat had felt it, too. At least for a single moment. And then she’d run away from him. Again.
“It’s so terrific, this effect I have on women,” he muttered. Then he forced himself to reach for the calm center of his serenity—the center that seemed to explode into fractured shards whenever he was around Kat. Drew in a lungful of the humid evening air and stripped off his shirt and pants. He had need of a shower. Maybe an hour or two under icy water would help the current state of his painfully aroused body.
He was Atlantean. He had no need for pipes and plumbing to find the water to cleanse his body. Legs spread apart, he lifted his face to the evening sky. Raised his arms, palms up, and called to the sea. Called to the water all around him. Called to the elements to purify the water and bring it to him.
He laughed, delighted still, after hundreds of years, as the water rushed to do his bidding. He’d learned a few tricks over the centuries, and he manipulated the currents of water as they danced and swirled in the air around him. Ribbons of water sparkled and shimmered as they curved around and over him to wash the sweat and dirt of the day from his body.
The coolness of the water soothed his overheated skin, calmed the nerve endings jumping and jangling under his skin, and caressed the fiercely hardened erection that jutted up against his body. Everything about Kat—her luscious curves, her scent of sunshine and forest, and her silky cinnamon and sunshine hair—had him walking around in a state of permanent arousal. But the look in her eyes in the kitchen had made him want to lift her onto the table right there and then. Rip the clothes from her body and drive into her. Claim herheat and her wetness for his rightful place, and then spend the next ten or fifty years holding her.
But wanting to
claim
her was wrong. It made him no better than Ethan. Not to mention the slight problem that she was half shape-shifter. Poseidon didn’t exactly allow his warriors to interact with the dual-natured. He spared a thought for Alaric’s reaction to the news that Bastien had mated with a shape-shifter, and grimaced.
Not that it mattered. Kat had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, after all, when she went running down the hall. Bastien sent his senses into the elements and adjusted the temperature of the water sluicing down his body. He needed it to be icy.
Kat finished toweling the water from her hair and wrapped the robe more firmly around herself. She’d been too distracted by Bastien to think of clean
She shook her head to rid it of the image. “I’ll just go first, then. We can figure out dinner in a while.”
But, having said that, she couldn’t force herself to move. A strand of his hair had fallen across his cheek as he bent his head and unpacked the groceries, and she stared at the glossy blackness of it, wanting nothing more than to raise her hand and smooth it back from his face. To step into his arms and, for once in her
be strong, be brave, be self-reliant, be independent
life—just for one damn time—let someone else be strong.
To let
him
be strong. Just for a moment.
He looked up and caught her staring at him. Must have read something in her eyes. Took a step toward her. “Kat, there’s something I need to—”
“No! I mean, no, there’s nothing,” she heard herself babbling but was powerless to stop. “Well, you should just, I’ll go. Now. I’ll—”
He blinked, probably wondering who the crazy womanwas and what she’d done with Kat, and the sheer humiliation of it all snapped her weird paralysis, and she ran. Ran again, by way of stumbling down the hall to the bathroom. Ran away from the first man who’d ever made her feel safe.
Bastien pushed open the door and headed outside. He knew he wasn’t imagining it. There had been a moment. A capital M Moment, right there in the kitchen. Whatever it was that had taken over his mind and senses, Kat had felt it, too. At least for a single moment. And then she’d run away from him. Again.
“It’s so terrific, this effect I have on women,” he muttered. Then he forced himself to reach for the calm center of his serenity—the center that seemed to explode into fractured shards whenever he was around Kat. Drew in a lungful of the humid evening air and stripped off his shirt and pants. He had need of a shower. Maybe an hour or two under icy water would help the current state of his painfully aroused body.
He was Atlantean. He had no need for pipes and plumbing to find the water to cleanse his body. Legs spread apart, he lifted his face to the evening sky. Raised his arms, palms up, and called to the sea. Called to the water all around him. Called to the elements to purify the water and bring it to him.
He laughed, delighted still, after hundreds of years, as the water rushed to do his bidding. He’d learned a few tricks over the centuries, and he manipulated the currents of water as they danced and swirled in the air around him. Ribbons of water sparkled and shimmered as they curved around and over him to wash the sweat and dirt of the day from his body.
The coolness of the water soothed his overheated skin, calmed the nerve endings jumping and jangling under his skin, and caressed the fiercely hardened erection that jutted up against his body. Everything about Kat—her luscious curves, her scent of sunshine and forest, and her silky cinnamon and sunshine hair—had him walking around in a state of permanent arousal. But the look in her eyes in the kitchen had made him want to lift her onto the table right there and then. Rip the clothes from her body and drive into her. Claim herheat and her wetness for his rightful place, and then spend the next ten or fifty years holding her.
But wanting to
claim
her was wrong. It made him no better than Ethan. Not to mention the slight problem that she was half shape-shifter. Poseidon didn’t exactly allow his warriors to interact with the dual-natured. He spared a thought for Alaric’s reaction to the news that Bastien had mated with a shape-shifter, and grimaced.
Not that it mattered. Kat had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, after all, when she went running down the hall. Bastien sent his senses into the elements and adjusted the temperature of the water sluicing down his body. He needed it to be icy.
Kat finished toweling the water from her hair and wrapped the robe more firmly around herself. She’d been too distracted by Bastien to think of clean
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