Page 9
“Yet here we are.”
Oh, great. The hallucination has a sense of humor.
I stumble backward, nearly tripping over a chunk of broken obsidian. His hand shoots out, catching my elbow before I fall.
The instant his fingers close around my arm, warmth spreads through my skin.
Not the uncomfortable heat of a New Orleans afternoon. Something deeper. A delicious, tingling sensation that races from my elbow straight into my stomach.
Which is entirely inappropriate, considering I’m currently being manhandled by a naked archaeological exhibit.
“Let go!”
He releases me immediately.
Interesting.
“You’re injured,” he says, nodding toward my hand.
“It’s a scratch.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Excellent observation. Are you also the God of Obvious Statements?”
His mouth twitches.
Oh, no.
Absolutely not.
He does not get to have a gorgeous crooked almost-smile on top of everything else.
“Your hand,” he says, extending his palm.
I glance between his enormous fingers and his face. “What about it?”
“Give it to me.”
“That’s usually the sort of thing a man asks after buying me dinner.”
“Then I shall buy you dinner.”
I blink.
He waits.
“You’re serious?”
“About dinner? Entirely.”
“You’re naked.”
“I am aware.”
“Do you even have money?”
His gaze drops briefly toward his magnificent lack of clothing.
