“I’ll get this cleaned up. It looks like you’ll need some stitches along this longer gash here.” She stepped back and started gathering a tray of supplies from the counter.

“I don’t want the stitches.” She gave him a startled look.

“Why not? It will leave a nasty scar.” He almost grinned but not because he was happy.

This, this was why he could never have her. She was the beautiful goddess and he the ravaged warrior.

“I am not ashamed of the cut. It will serve as a reminder that I came that close to death.”

Her eyes flickered with some emotion he didn’t recognize and then she nodded.

She gathered what she needed and came back between his legs. She cleaned the wound, which spanned from his chest to his bellybutton, with a liquid that burned his flesh. He kept his face passive. Honestly the pain didn’t hurt nearly as much as being this close to her. He’d give his right arm to get out of here right now.

He must be a glutton for pain though because instead of staring off in some opposite direction of her, he looked at a point above her head so he could see her move from the corner of his eye.

Her movements were methodical, brisk, and thorough. She was done much too fast and

stepped back with a snap of her gloves.

“I’d like to give you something for the pain.” She moved to her medicine cabinet but his voice stopped her.

“Don’t bother.” He hopped off the table and started to pull down his shirt. If she touched him for one more second he wasn’t sure what he might do.

“We are not finished.”

He cut a glance to her. He’d never heard her sound angry. Yup, she was pissed. Her eyes were spitting mad and her lips were pulled into a hard frown. She stormed back to him and pushed him back onto the table. He winced this time but not because of the pain. He could not keep his dick down around this woman. Everything she did turned him on. There was no stopping the image of her climbing on top of him and wrapping her body and mouth around his.

“Lift up your shirt. I’m bandaging it.” He started to protest that it was unnecessary but she cut him a look that shut him the hell up. When she came back to him, she had a roll of white cotton gauze in her hand. He lifted his shirt like a good patient and let her work.

God was it torture.

She started unrolling the gauze at his side and leaned into him as she wrapped her arms around his back then around his chest...again and again. He had to close his eyes or else he might do something stupid like kiss her. Taste her lips and finally find out what they would feel like under his. Soft but firm, he was betting. With just enough give to make him want to sink his teeth into that bottom lip. Would her eyes go soft or hungry?

“All done,” she said softly, startling him out of his perverted reverie. He felt her breath blow across his nipple and his stomach muscles bunched reflexively. He opened his eyes to see hers tracing over his chest in a way that made this whole not kissing her thing very hard. Her eyes lifted to his and he watched as the color in her cheeks bronzed beautifully. Lovely. Golden-skinned goddess.

He swallowed hard. “Thanks for everything.” He stood which, he realized too late, was a bad move because she didn’t step away quickly enough, and his body brushed against hers. Big mistake. The pain from his wound dialed down like it wasn’t even there. All he felt was the gentle heat of her body pressing against his legs and hips.

“Henry,” she said softly, his name rolling off her pretty lips. His chest expanded as he struggled to draw in air. She was a witch, ensnaring him with the deep longing in her eyes. He couldn’t look away, not even as she perched her hands on his shoulders and raised herself up. He was an idiot, but he was going to let her. Was desperate to know, to finally know what she tasted like.

She stopped an inch from his lips. Her breath whispered nervously over his. His hands move to her waist, beneath the open white jacket she wore and gently settled on her. The touch belied the surging white-hot passion that threatened to erupt inside him.

He couldn’t wait anymore. If he died tomorrow then at least he would finally know. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. The very first touch was electric pleasure zapping through him like a lightning bolt. Immediately he pulled away, stunned and shaking. But she followed him with a soft sound that made his dick weep and his heart quake in his chest.

Her fingers curled into his shoulders in the sweetest of pleasures as her lips pressed over his. The kiss was sweet, innocent. He lost himself in her. He licked open her lips and tasted inside her. His heart kicked up a beat—perfect. She was perfect. Soft and delicate on the inside just like she was on the outside.

“Nanu!”

Henry stumbled back so hard he knocked the hospital table back into the cabinet with a loud crack. He was also certain that he’d just dented the hell out of that table.

He watched wide-eyed as the golden male stepped in front of the goddess, cutting off his connection with Nanu. He tried to ignore her taste still teasing his tongue, but that was impossible.

“You dare to disrespect my sister, warrior?” Her brother, Heru, glared hatred at him.

Henry was shaking his head even as he made for the door.

“Do so again and I will have your head, Commander Tyrian’s guard or not.”

Henry didn’t bother turning around, just kept walking. He was practically running as he reached the end of the wing. Even as he felt her gaze burning into his back, he didn’t turn.

Chloe awoke to a definite chill in the air. She shivered and pulled the covers more fully over her. Except all that did was make her legs colder as the cover came up. Grumbling, she turned to the other side and pulled the cover up to her cheek. Instantly her legs and butt were chilled with goose bumps.

Popping open her eyes, she sat up and came to the quick and sudden realization that she was not in her hotel room anymore. She looked down at the little white towel wrapped loosely around her and pulled the ends tighter as she tried to control her racing thoughts.

Where the hell was she? A vast study or maybe a library. Her sister was nowhere to be seen.

The room was dark and filled with low-lit candles and a grand chandelier that casted the leather furniture in shadows. She stood on shaky legs and tried to remember what had happened.

Cemetery, spell casting, demon zombie screaming her name, then to bed. She gasped as she recalled waking up to two men and that nasty roaring she’d heard in the cemetery. The demon had followed her. And men were trying to steal her.

Spinning around, she caught sight of a man standing at an archway window looking out.

Shoot, that wasn’t a man.

As silently as she could, she kept her eyes on him and backed up. Don’t hear me. The man was huge, though not in a steroid taking, pumping iron way. He was tall with shoulders that filled the wide-open window. Damn, that window really needed bars or something over it to keep people from, oh, falling to their deaths. His back and lean hips caught her attention next. He wore a black long-sleeve shirt and matching pants yet the simple ensemble made him look dangerous in an “I’m completely normal” way. Even his hair was dark. Long too, pulled back in a severe tie at the back of his head.

Three more, silent steps backwards on the freezing cold floor beneath her bare feet.

“Surely you at least wish to know who I am before you leave.” She jumped at the sound of his voice and tripped over a table behind her.

She toppled to the ground, her butt skidding on the cold stone floor in a clump. Quickly disentangling herself, she stood, clutching the towel tighter around her. His voice...It was cold and hard. It held a tone that could mistakenly be construed as passive or bored but she was sure was just indifference. Was this what a killer sounded like? He could talk to you in that detached voice as he swung the sword that would take your head.