He remained near the door and glanced around as if he hadn’t seen the place before. “Tea’s…somewhere I’m sure.”
Ash raised an eyebrow, which was totally wasted on him since he wasn’t looking at her. “Don’t you live here?”
“No.”
Heck, talking to him was like trying to wish her new powers away.
“Fine. I’ll look.” Ash set her empty glass on the table before turning to the cupboards.
She rummaged through them and found a box of tea bags. Mum would absolutely shudder that these weren’t loose leaves. But Ash wasn’t fussy. Living in the States for several years had mellowed her somewhat. Tea was tea.
With no kettle in sight, she got a mug from the cupboard, topped it with water, and slid it into the microwave. She hit the timer, but nothing happened.
Several more stabs at thestartbutton, and still nothing. Ugh.
“Your microwave doesn’t work,” she muttered with another jab.
He strolled over, the scent of burnt ember edged with ice teasing her senses. Her gaze snagged on the flex of his biceps as he fiddled with the microwave. A ding sounded, and Ash hastily stepped back before he bumped into her—or caught her staring like some drooling teen at those big, strong, sexy arms and the even broader shoulders.
“The switch was off,” he drawled, starting the microwave.
Oh, man.Determined to lock away those wayward thoughts in a metal box and throw away the key, Ash crossed to the fridgeand found an open box of long-life milk inside. She hip-bumped the door closed, grabbed a spoon from the dishrack, and turned to find him leaning lazily against the table, watching her with an intensity that made her pulse trip all over again.
What? Did she have soot on her face?
Probably. Smoke, grime, near-death—a real sexy combination, but she wasn’t about to clean up for him.
And he still hadn’t granted her the courtesy of his name—the swine.
Well, she wasn’t going to ask.
Ash set the milk and spoon on the counter when what he’d said earlier struck her. She pivoted. “Wait—theTatraMountains? In Romania?” She shook her head. “It’s theCarpathiansthat run through Romania.”
“Indeed, they do,” he drawled, rubbing his biceps as if she needed the reminder of how sinful they were. “It’s been so long. The abbey took its name from monks who’d fled the Tatras. Around here, locals still use the name for this place.”
“Regardless,” she shot back. “You brought me to another country? How the bloody hell did you do that?”
He removed his mobile from his pocket. “I opened a portal.”
Ash gaped at him. “You didwhat?”
“What I said.” His fingers flew over the display as he typed.
“Portal opening is a bloody myth,” she snapped, ignoring the microwave dinging. “Just tell me!”
He looked up. “The same way you command rain and lightning—with powers.”
“This crap that roils through me suddenly happened out of the blue,” she bit out. “The same thing happened to you, is that it?”
He watched her for a second, then glanced back at his mobile. “You got me there. I was born this way—water’s ready.”
Ash kneaded her sore temple, feeling as if she were trapped in a bad dream. “What?”
“Your tea water’s hot,” he murmured, still texting.
With a deep breath, Ash removed the steaming mug from the microwave, dropped in the tea bag, added a splash of milk, and stirred, watching it swirl into a muddy cloud. The familiar ritual and herbal aroma brought a small measure of comfort.
Well then, she had powers, and he did too. Who was she to argue when she, herself, couldn’t explain this phenomenon to anyone?
