She struggled against him, making him grunt when she elbowed one of the slash marks on his arm.
He wrestled her other shoe off and then dragged her onto the bed before stretching out beside her.
She sat up, tugging on her arm. She could go nowhere so it was a futile effort.
Kallan smiled at her. “It’s been a long night. Lie down.”
“I’ll kill you.”
He laughed. She never stopped. “I think that’s my job, my Medusa.”
“I’m not your Medusa. I’m not your anything. My name is Andi.”
He put his free hand behind his head and studied her for a long moment. “Andrea Rosakis. I know your name.”
“How did you find me?”
“I don’t think we’ll discuss that. But I suppose I should inquire as to whether there are any weapons in your nightstand I need to worry about tonight.”
Her look of disbelief made him sit up. He crawled over her, then straddled her and tried not to think about the position while he used his free hand to pull open the drawer. A flashlight, hefty enough to bash him in the head. He tossed it away so it clattered across the floor and landed near the closet. A tattered book. He flipped it over to look at the cover. A romance novel—the half-naked hero on the cover ravishing the slightly more dressed woman in his arms. The worst she could do with that was give him some paper cuts. Or another painful erection.
Kallan cleared his throat and dropped the book back into the drawer, where there were still some scattered papers, a pen—which he threw in the direction of the flashlight—a black satin sleep mask, and way in the back… He closed his fingers around something more substantial than the pen.
A vibrator, he discovered when he pulled it out of the drawer.
He shot her a quizzical glance and found her face averted, but not enough that he couldn’t see the hot color staining her cheeks. He glanced back at the toy, imagining her using it despite his best intentions. He could understand a woman like the Medusa having the same needs as other women. But why wouldn’t she indulge them with a flesh and blood man? She only suffered the effects of the curse for a few days each month. He flipped the tiny switch on the bottom of the vibrator, and the thing hummed to life.
Under him, she stiffened, turning her face further away.
He shut it off and dropped it back into the drawer. “Well, I don’t think I’d consider that a weapon,” he said lightly. He was suddenly aware of how close she was again, her breasts a scant inch from his belly, her thighs pressed tight between his knees. Her scent teased his nose—something with wildflowers and herbs. He sniffed. Basil, maybe. And sandalwood. Something else. He resisted the urge to lean nearer to find out what and climbed off her, ignoring his body’s protest. It had definitely been too long since he’d indulged his own needs if he couldn’t control these urges around the Medusa for even an hour.
“Lie down.”
When she didn’t immediately obey him, he gave her a gentle push until her head hit the pillow. She glared up at him, her cheeks still bright pink.
“You’re going to need your rest. We have work to do tomorrow,” he said.
She averted her gaze.
He had to find out if any of the lore talked about the amulet being embedded in the Medusa’s skin. And if so, why hadn’t he seen it before now? Why had no one mentioned it?
He stretched out beside her once more. “I hope you have something in the refrigerator for breakfast.” He hadn’t planned on spending the night, after all.
“You don’t really think I’m feeding you, do you?” Horror and anger mingled in her tone.
He didn’t look at her, though he really wanted to see her expression. “I have two good hands. I can feed myself. I’m just hoping you have breakfast food here for me to do that with.”
“Unbelievable.”
He grinned, restraining the laugh that tried to work up from his chest. His Medusa was a lot of fun. A lot more fun than anyone he’d encountered in a long, long time.
She huffed and shifted. “Unbelievable,” she repeated, under her breath this time. She inched away from him on the mattress—cautiously, slowly—then lay still for a long moment.
Andi tugged uselessly at her wrist, but his arm didn’t move from his side. “Hey, Harvester.”
The obnoxious grin slid off his face. “Stop calling me that.”
“It’s your name.”
He glared at her, then folded his arms over his chest, dragging hers along and forcing her to half roll toward him again.
She yanked away but he put his other hand over her wrist.
“Go to sleep.”
She shot him a disbelieving glance. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sleeping in handcuffs. Or with all the lights on. And I’m not tired.” That last sounded rather childish, she admitted to herself, but the man had nerve.
He observed her for a long moment, until she wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Then another slow grin started at one corner of his mouth, gradually curving his full lower lip all the way to the opposite corner. “I bet I can fix that.”
“I don’t think so.” She leaned as far away as her trapped arm allowed.
He moved fast, flipping her on top of him before she realized his intent.
Andi blinked, then felt her heart pound faster. The Harvester had muscles on his muscles.
Not the best time to be noticing that, perhaps.
She watched him warily as he shifted under her, settled her close, then stretched their cuffed wrists away from their sides. She put her free hand on his shoulder and pushed herself up a little. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you tired.” His other hand slid up her spine to the nape of her neck, where his fingers started massaging the tight muscles.
“Stop it.” She shifted her head to one side, then the other, but his strong fingers continued exactly what they’d been doing. She frowned down at him.
He smiled innocently.
“That doesn’t work for me.” It did feel good, though. Not that she’d tell him.
Kallan’s bright gaze slid down from her eyes to her mouth, almost like an actual touch on her lips.
She swallowed. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late,” he murmured, using his grip at her nape to bring her closer.
Andi sucked in a startled breath when he brushed his mouth along hers. “You’re sick.”
It was his turn to blink. “What?”
“You’re here to kill me, right?”
His brows dipped into a frown.
“You’re not supposed to be…screwing me too.” She blushed.
His frown disappeared. “I’m not trying to screw you. Just kiss you, Andrea.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“Well, that makes it much easier,” he said softly, lifting his head to catch her lips.
His kiss wasn’t what she’d expected. Not that she’d been imagining it. Not really. His lips were warm and soft on hers, not demanding or ruthless—although she was certain he possessed both qualities, and probably far worse, knowing his gene pool. His kiss was more an exploration. A gentle caress.
And for a moment, she decided, she could enjoy it. It had been a very long time since a man had kissed her.
Maddy Niteclif’s world has changed so radically she’s no longer sure she recognizes the face staring back at her in the mirror. Pale skin, wide eyes, new scars, and even newer wounds. They’ll heal. It’s the invisible
