Fantasy Lover

But when it came to him, all she could think of was taking him into her arms and riding him into the ground.

That completely uncharacteristic thought sobered her.

Grace opened her mouth to respond to his question, then stopped. What was she going to do with this guy?

Other than that.

She shook her head in disbelief. 'What am I supposed to do with you?'

His eyes darkened with lust as he again reached for her.

Oh, yes, her body begged, please touch me all over.

'Stop that!' she snapped at both herself and him, refusing to let go of her control. Rational thought would reign here, not her hormones. She'd already made that mistake and she wasn't about to repeat it.

She jumped up another step and she stared at him. Holy guacamole, he was gorgeous. His wavy, tawny hair fell midway down his back where it was secured with a dark brown leather cord. All except for three thin braids that had beads attached to their ends-braids that swung in time with his movements.

Dark brown eyebrows slashed over eyes that were both beguiling and terrifying. Eyes that watched her with way too much heat.

And in that moment, she definitely wanted to kill Selena.

But not nearly as much as she wanted to crawl into bed with this man and sink her teeth into that golden tan.

Stop that!

'I don't understand what's going on,' she said at last. She had to think through this-figure out what to do. 'I need to sit down for a minute and you…' She trailed her eyes over his perfect body. 'You need to cover up.'

The corners of Julian's mouth twitched. In the whole of his life, she was the first person to ever say that to him.

Indeed, all the women he'd known before the curse had done nothing except try and get him out of his clothes. As quickly as possible. And since the curse, his summoners had spent days staring at his nudity, running their hands over his body, savoring the sight of him.

'Stay here for a minute,' she said, before darting up the stairs.

He watched her hips sway with her steps, his body instantly growing hot and hard. Clenching his teeth in an effort to ignore the burning in his loins, he forced himself to look around. Distraction was definitely the key-at least until she gave in to him.

Which wouldn't be long. No woman could ever withhold herself from him for any length of time.

Smiling bitterly at the thought, he glanced about the house.

Just where and when was he?

He didn't know how long he'd been trapped. All he could remember were the sounds of voices over time, the subtle shifting and changing of accents and language dialects as the years passed.

Looking up at the light above his head, he frowned. No fire burned. What was that thing? His eyes watered in protest and he looked away.

That must be the lightbulb, he decided.

Hey, I need to change the lightbulb. Do me a favor and flip the switch by the door. 'Kay?

Remembering the shopkeeper's words, he looked to the door and saw what he assumed was the switch. Julian left the stairs and pulled down on the tiny lever. Immediately the lights went out. He switched them back on.

In spite of himself, he smiled again. What other marvels did this time hold?

'Here.'

Julian looked at Grace who stood on the bottom step. She tossed him a long rectangle of dark green fabric. He caught it against his chest as a wave of disbelief consumed him.

The woman had been serious about covering him up?

How very odd. His frown deepening, he wrapped the fabric around his hips.

Grace waited until he moved away from the door before she looked at him again. Thank goodness, he was finally covered. No wonder the Victorians insisted on fig leaves. Too bad she didn't have a few in her yard. The only thing out there was holly bushes and she doubted he'd appreciate that.

Grace headed to the living room and sat down on the couch. 'So help me, Lanie,' she breathed. 'I'm going to get you for this.'

And then he was there, sitting beside her, firing every hormone in her body with his presence.

Moving to the opposite end of the couch, Grace eyed him warily. 'So, how long are you here for?'

Oh, great question, Grace. Why not ask him for the weather or his sign while you're at it? Jeez!

'Until the next full moon.' His glacial eyes melted a degree. And as he ran it over her body, his gaze turned from ice to fire in the space of about two heartbeats.

He leaned toward her, reaching to touch her face.

Grace jumped to her feet and went to stand on the other side of the coffee table. 'Are you telling me that I'm stuck with you for the next month?'

'Yes.'

Stunned, Grace rubbed her hand over her eyes. She couldn't entertain him for a month. A whole, solid month! She had responsibilities, obligations.

She had a new hobby to learn.

'Look,' she said. 'Believe it or not, I have a life. One that doesn't include you in it.'

She could tell by his face that he didn't care for her words. Not at all. 'If you think I'm thrilled by being here with you, you're sadly mistaken. I assure you I'm not here by choice.'

His words stung her.

'Well, not all of you feels that way.' She gave a pointed glare to the part of him that was still ramrod-stiff.

Looking down at his lap and the lump bulging under the towel, he sighed. 'Unfortunately, I don't have any more control over that than I do being here.'

'Well, there's the door,' she said, pointing toward it. 'Don't let it hit you on the rump on your way out.'

'Believe me, if I could leave, I would.'

Grace hesitated at his words, and their significance. 'Are you telling me that I can't wish you away? Or make you go back into the book?'

'I believe your word was bingo.'

She fell silent.

Rising slowly to his feet, Julian stared at her. In all the centuries he'd been damned, this was the first time this had come up. All his other summoners had known what he was, and they had been more than willing to spend the month in his arms, happily using his body for their pleasure.

He'd never in his life, either this one or his mortal one, found a woman who didn't want him physically.

It was…

Odd.

Humbling.

Almost embarrassing.

Could it be that the curse was weakening? That maybe at last he might be free?

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew better. When the Greek gods handed down a punishment, they did it with style and with a vengeance that not even two millennia could mellow.

There had been a time once, long ago, when he had fought against his damnation. A time when he had believed he could be free. But over two thousand years of confinement and unrelenting torture had taught him one thing- resignation.

He had earned his hell, and like the soldier he'd once been, he accepted his punishment.

Swallowing the gall that stuck in his throat, Julian spread his arms out, and offered his body to her. 'You can do with me as you wish. Just tell me how to please you.'