Assassin's Honor by Monica Burns

Author:Monica Burns
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Psychokinesis, Paranormal, General, Romance, Romantic suspense fiction, Suspense, Fiction, Women archaeologists
ISBN: 9780425234167
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2010-06-01T01:11:08+00:00

Chapter 13

ARES slowly blinked sleep out of his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Christus. If he kept this up, he wouldn't see his next birthday. He cautiously tested his flexibility by sitting upright. At least he didn't hurt as badly as he'd expected. In fact, he felt a lot better than he should for someone who'd run the gauntlet. He frowned.

Had Atia allowed a healer to relieve him of pain last night? Not likely. But then everything beyond the gauntlet was fuzzy at best. The one constant had been Emma. He'd heard her, felt her touch, smelled that sweet scent of hers throughout the night. The one thing he did remember clearly was her voice ordering him to get up and move.

It had been her voice that had penetrated the haze of pain to make him crawl toward the end of the gauntlet. What was it she'd said? She'd take a sword to him. The smile on his mouth turned to a grimace as he slid out of bed. Damno, but he was sore. At least someone had removed his clothes. There wasn't anything worse than ripping leather off a wound that had already clotted and bonded with the material.

The shadowy memory of Emma cleaning his wounds drifted through his consciousness. He frowned as he tried to recall the moment more clearly. He had a vague sensation of having kissed her, but he wasn't even sure that had happened.

He moved toward the bathroom. A warm shower would make him feel human again. One hand splayed against the partially closed door, he frowned slightly at the humid air hitting him in the face. Before his brain could process the fact that something was off, he pushed the door open.

The only thing he could do was stand there. Emma had just gotten out of the shower. Her body glistened with water droplets as she used a towel to dry her wet hair. Fotte. He was hard in an instant. This wasn't good. No, it was better than good, which confirmed why it was bad. He stretched his neck and swallowed hard as he stared at her sweet curves.

She was like Botticelli's Fortuna. All she needed were angels to dress her. No. He didn't want her dressed. He wanted her to stay just like this until he had spent himself inside her. That pleasurable thought tightened the muscles in his groin. He needed to get the hell out of here before he did something stupid. The blood bond. He needed to remember the blood bond.

Eyes closed, her towel dropped to the floor as she laced her fingers through her damp hair. The action lifted her full breasts, and everything else but the sight of her receded into the background. He was insane not to leave this minute. Even if the blood bond hadn't been an issue, the last thing he needed to do was get involved with her. He closed his eyes briefly. Who was he kidding? He was already involved. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard shouts and curses, but he ignored the warnings.

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