Change the subject. Change the subject now. “Um, yeah, so, no lessons yet, but I bought you some clothes,” she managed to croak. “I hope they fit.”
“I’m sure they are fine.” He swept his tongue over his lips, an intoxicating invitation she struggled to ignore.
When he made no other reply, she prompted, “Put them on please. We need to leave. We’ve only got twenty minutes to get downtown. I always open the shop at eight o’clock, not a minute later.” Well, except for yesterday, but he didn’t need to know that. “Oh, I almost forgot. I bought you a present, too.”
“A present…as in a gift?” His eyebrows drew together, and a flicker of surprise darkened his eyes, chasing away his seductive intent. “For me?”
“Yes, for you.” Grinning, she handed him the bag with the knife.
He glanced at her, then the bag. Her, then the bag. Finally he hesitantly accepted her offering. “I do not know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. I hated leaving you behind, I truly did, but I thought it would be safer for us both. Anyway, I’m rambling. Just open the bag.” Eagerness flooded her veins, almost bubbling over. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
Slowly he smoothed the plastic aside and lifted a long, shiny black box. With exquisite care, he withdrew the blade from the velvet center and studied every angle. The sharp-edged metal winked in the light and fit perfectly in his hand.
Silence surrounded them as she waited for his reaction. He simply continued to peer at the blade, as if he’d never seen a weapon before. Little by little, her excitement drained. He didn’t like the gift, did he? Maybe she should have gotten him a leopard-print thong instead. Or an entire box of whipped cream. What did he like? “I can take it back,” she rushed to tell him. “I can get you something else.”
“No! Mine!” he said suddenly, his voice firm and unbending. His lashes swept upward, and he pierced her with such gratitude and reverence she wanted to promise to buy him an entire arsenal—guns, grenades and all. “You thought of me while you were out. You spent your hard-earned money on me.”
Realization: he’d never received a gift before. And how utterly heartbreaking was that? This wonderful man had lived over a thousand years, yet no one had thought to buy him a present.
She sank to the carpet to rummage through the sacks, eager to show him the rest. After a few moments, she withdrew a shirt, a pair of jeans and boxers. “Here, these are for you, too.”
“I—thank you,” he said again, then placed the garments beside him on the couch and continued his scrutiny of the knife.
“You’re very welcome. Now, we really do need to leave,” she reminded him. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Tardiness can be a benefit, little dragon, especially if the time is spent in bed—or on the kitchen tabletop. Or on the floor. Mayhap one day you will allow me to prove all of this to you.”
Each new word made her body ache in a different place. Her left nipple. Her right nipple. Between her legs. Behind her knees. Practically in a trance, she watched as Tristan set his blade to the side at long last. He eased to his feet. Tie by tie, he unlaced his pants, then inched them down his hips, revealing more and more skin.
She would stop him. Yep. Any second now…
The final lace opened, revealing—
“Tristan!” she gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I am undressing.”
“I can see that.” And a lot more. “But why?”
“Why else? To put on my new clothes.”
“Oh.” With her sitting on the floor, and him standing a few feet away, their positions gave her a dazzling view of his assets. He was all taut male, hard muscles and, yes, he was large all over as she’d suspected. But she would never have imagined… Julia gulped, her body pulsing with need.
“Is something wrong?” he asked innocently, acting as if he wasn’t naked now.
“No, nothing’s wrong.” Nothing except the fact that she needed to catch her breath—and she would, just as soon as she looked away. But she couldn’t force her gaze to leave him.
The phrase “a warrior’s mighty sword” suddenly made sense. Because dang. He could cut through anything with that beast—panties, reluctance, objections.
“Tsk, tsk. You are staring, Julia,” Tristan said.
Yes, she was staring, and she wanted to continue doing so. Since he had been rude enough to point it out, she couldn’t continue without being, well, rude.
“Uh, I’m going to get my briefcase.” Did she even own a briefcase? Slowly she rose and inched from the room. She only tripped twice, though her attention stayed glued to his erection—him, only him—until the very last possible second.
* * *
TRISTAN WATCHED JULIA’S retreat. Alone, he allowed a slow, devilish smile to form, his good humor restored. Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. Julia found his nakedness appealing. So appealing, in fact, she had been unable to glance away from him. That pleased him on every level, considering she had told him only last eve that she did not like him in that way. The little dragon more than liked him; she was transfixed by him.
Ah, what a sweet revelation.
Slowly his smile faded, however. Was that why she had bought him a gift? Because she wanted him and hoped to buy his affections…the same way he’d secretly hoped to buy the affections of his previous lovers?
He sighed and pushed the question to the back of his mind, sensing an answer would not be forthcoming any time soon. A shock. He, a master of female passions, did not understand the workings of Julia’s mind.
He tugged on his new clothing piece by piece. If he’d had the currency, he would have bought her the finest jewels, the purest stones to match her eyes. His way of saying thank you. Had any man ever
