It was still thrilling to be able to hear his cautious tone when he said, “I would have to wear my helmet.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Feeling weirdly embarrassed by her offer, she rocked back on her heels and looked away from that dark visor. “You know what? It’s probably way too uncomfortable for you to do that. Forget I said anything. I wasn’t thinking about what it would— I mean, I didn’t consider the, uh, limitations. Sorry.”
She didn’t hear him approach. Sloane moved like a damn cat in those heavy-duty boots. Cecilia had no idea he was there until he slipped his fingers under her chin to tilt her head up.
“It would be the greatest honor of my life to guard you while you sleep,” he rumbled. She’d never imagined there to be levity in his voice, or even insincerity, but to hear his seriousness completely unfiltered was a heady thing.
Sloane wasn’t just saying things. He wasn’t trying to charm her. If he said something that took her breath away, it was the raw, honest truth. She doubted he even knew how to lie to her, let aloneflirt.
Insides turning to molten goo, she laid a hand on his chest. “Thanks, champ, but I don’t just want you to guard me. I want you to rest, too.”
“But—”
“Sloane, baby, are you really gonna tell me you won’t wake up thesecondthere’s a weird sound in the house?”
“Of course I will,” he answered, obviously offended.
“Then it’s fine if you rest. There’s no danger.” Cecilia snagged his hand and began to pad backward, gently pulling him with her. “I trust you to protect me, but if this is gonna be anything between us, you’ve got to see me as somethingmorethan a target to protect, okay?”
Sloane let her tug him into the room with absolutely zero resistance. Sounding a touch uncertain, he argued, “You’re not just a target. You’re my consort.”
She was much more used to words like mate, wife, or partner.Consortwould’ve sounded deeply pretentious if it weren’t for the reverence with which he used it.
“Right,” she whispered, battling a tide of butterflies that had taken over her stomach. “Well, your consort wants you to sleep with her. Really sleep.”
His head cocked. “Is that an order?”
The backs of her knees bumped the large mattress. Sitting down with a little bounce, she shrugged. “If it has to be.”
“Understood.”
Sloane sat stiffly beside her. He took a moment to rest his hands on his knees and take a deep breath before he began the oddly rehearsed process of stripping off his clothing. Scooting back until she could bring her legs up and cross them, Cecilia watched him unlace his boots and carefully align them beside the bed — almost like he wanted them in the perfect position to step in.
His black, armored shirt went next. She ogled him shamelessly as he revealed his naked torso to her, showing off slabs of hard muscle and so much deliciously lickable purple skin. Sloane wasn’t built for vanity. His muscle was the thick kind that came from repeated motions and hard combat training.
It wasn’t pretty. It was deadly.
Her mouth went dry as he stood up to quickly and efficiently unclasp his belt, roll it, and set it on the nightstand that once held the lamp she’d hit him with. He’d left his gloves in the garage, which meant she got to watch his deft fingers handle his button and fly completely unobstructed.
Gods have mercy on me,she thought,if his hands are that hot, what is his face gonna do to me?
And then he dropped his pants.
Cecilia choked on nothing when his tight backside came into view. Covered in plain black briefs, aggressively spherical and dimpled on the sides, it was the single most perfectly sculpted ass she’d ever beheld.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, crawling forward to get a better look.
Sloane’s head turned to peer over his shoulder. “What?”
“Have you ever considered becoming an underwear model?”
He took a moment to respond. “I have not.”
“Well, you should,” she told him, eyeing his strong thighs.
Sloane crouched down to pick up his pants. Folding them in a precise series of movements before setting them on the nightstand beside the sparkly urn that contained her dead cat, he gravely replied, “I will consider it.”
Cecilia couldn’t smother a giggle. It got even worse when he turned around to face her in nothing more than his skivvies and that sinister helmet.
