“This may come as a surprise”—he tugs on the ties of his leather trousers—“but I’m no fan of bloodbaths.”
I attempt to map out an exit that doesn’t involve circling him, but the only other way past Lorcan is scuttling up one of the boulders and doing so slick and naked is truly not ideal. I decide to wait for him to step into the pool, then I’ll swim past him and climb out.
The lazy smile that draws up one corner of his mouth makes my spine prickle. I cross my arms and scowl as he pulls off his boots excruciatingly slowly.
“Should’ve bathed in bird form. Would’ve been quicker.”
“I believe that pleasurable things should never be rushed.”
“You find undressing pleasurable?”
He just keeps smiling as he hooks the waistband of his pants.
I turn my glare toward the boulder keeping me corralled into this pool. Why did Phoebus have to lead me so deep into the grotto?Right.Because I insisted on sitting in the most secluded area. Damn him for listening to me.
The water ripples as Lore gets in. I side-eye him, briskly at first, to make sure he’s decent. Once I’ve established that he is, I turn fully toward him. I wait for him to move to the side so no part of our bodies brush on my way out of the basin. I may be slight, but I’d have to be missing a few major bones to weasel past him without our limbs connecting.
If only he weren’t so . . .massive.
Unbothered by my desire to escape, he sits and cups water, dribbling it over one ropy shoulder, then over the other. Every one of his movements is deliberate. Calculated.
Surely calculated to madden me.
“Water’s warmer thataway.” I nod to the far side of the pool where the water is the exact same temperature as everywhere else.
“How fortunate that I prefer cooler water.”
“It’s cleaner also.”
“May as well stay put or I’ll just make it filthy.”
I grind my teeth.
He wants to play it that way?Fine. Keeping my eye on him, I move forward, then hunt the slender divide to his right and to his left trying to decide which exit is wider.
I dart right.
He sprawls.
“Seriously?” I grumble.
“A problem?” He drapes his arms on the stone ledge, taking up more space. All the space.
I back away to regroup. “Unlike you, I’m incapable of flying—”
“A shame.”
“—so unless you want me to scale you, move.”
His golden eyes spark like a predator who’s trapped his prey. “By all means . . . scale me.”
The nerve of him! “Fine.”
I don’t miss the stunned flutter of his jaw as I shoot to my feet and plow forward. I smack my hands against his left shoulder and stick my foot on the submerged stone ledge he sits on. When the stone shifts beneath my foot, I realize—with horror—that I’ve stepped on his thigh.
My foot rolls, and I lose my balance, but before I can smack backward into the pool, he hooks my waist, and I land astride the hard thigh I mistook for the bench.
Perhaps for the first time in my life, it isn’t the fall that rattles me but the landing. My pulse strikes my ribs and neck, making both vibrate so hard that ripples form around my body.
