Bliss (4 page)

All a
djectives she knew she should avoid, because hurt usually followed all that kind of wonderful. Why she felt that way, she couldn’t fathom, but some instinctive part of her knew she had to get away from him.

He
calmly stretched his body, long arms rising over his head and causing every muscle in his abdomen to flex. Her heart accelerated.

It was then
that she noticed his t-shirt. Bright pink, it barely reached past his pecs. He strode back into her kitchen. The words “Honk if You’re Horny” outlined the back of his shirt in big black bold letters. Horny? The guy was a walking sex billboard. If she got any hornier she’d become a toad. She chocked on a giggle.

Then she realized he was walking away from her and into her kitchen. Like he was making himself at home. In her home?
I don’t think so.
Her eyes narrowed to dagger points as she tried with all her willpower to get him to turn and walk out of her apartment door. Exasperated when that didn’t work, she asked the obvious, “What are you doing?”

“
It’s been awhile but I’m guessing you want coffee in the morning. So that is what I’m doing. Making you some. Where’s your coffee pot?” he asked, his eyes skimming over her body in one fluid motion, making her very conscious of her disheveled appearance.

“Okay, this is sooo not funny. For one, I d
on’t have a coffee pot. I buy my coffee brewed for me. And for two, I didn’t just wake up to you. I have no idea who you are, and I don’t believe in genies popping out of books or things like that, like some romance writer might write about. Get it? The joke’s over. I’ve got work to do. So leave.”

“Genie. You think I’m some freak'n blue bell...a tink
? Do I look like a genie to you? Do you see me saying, ‘Let me grant you three wishes,’ or better yet, ‘Let me give you what your heart desires,’” said Darius, closing the space between them in a heartbeat. “I’m not a genie. And if you’re so smart, get with the program, as you like to say. You leave. Be my guest. By the time you make it to the bottom level of those stairs out there ... you ... will ... be ... begging ... me ... back.” The words came out forced and angry. Haunting sea-green eyes bore into her, causing her to blush.

Mustering her courage she snapped back “Fine. I’ll leave. I’m going to go out get a coffee and come back. I expect you to be gone when I come back.
Capice?” she said with more flare than she felt.

She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead, she grabbed the spare change in the change tray and her keys and sauntered out of her apartment. Closing the door behind her she took a deep breath. Already she was feeling better.

This feels good, she told herself, marching down the stairs like she didn’t have a care in the world.

When I get back he’ll be gone. I’ll get the book and get some real work done. Then I’m going to make Melissa and Sarah wish they had never played this practical joke on me.

When her feet hit the second floor landing, pain sliced through her body. White heat radiated instantly all over her, from her toes to the ends of her long hair. She couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t think straight as her body, writhing in pain, collapsed onto the landing. She felt as if she was being burned alive. She wanted to scream but couldn’t. It felt as if someone was squeezing her lungs, making breathing impossible.

Her last conscious thought before another painful spasm
racked her was that death would be better than what she was going through.

Darius knew she was in pain, but still he lounged against the kitchen counter, counting the seconds. A second spasm of pain caused the hairs on his body to stand on end. He could feel his breathing becoming labored, but still he waited. This was a lesson he only wanted her to experience once. A lesson learned once the hard way, he mused, was better than having her pretend he didn’t exist.

The idea
she thought he was a genie was laughable. A tink. He wished he could share that thought with Seth. His telepathic ability to speak with his twin was on the fritz. At least that’s what he hoped it was. The gash on his stomach started to bleed again, and he shook his head, realizing he had forgotten to find a needle and thread. Taking a deep breath he calmly walked out of the kitchen, out the door and down the steps. She had made it to the second landing. Crumpled in a heap, a painful spasm took hold of her body.

Cursing silently for waiting so long, he scooped up her limp body into his arms. Her lips were blue from the lack of oxygen. Without hesitating
, he kissed her. Luckily in human form he didn’t have to worry about giving her the kiss of life, which would tie her to him for eternity.

With his healing powers able to work on her, he willed his energy, his essence into her as it healed her body. Deepening the kiss, he felt the exact moment when she took a breath. His breath. He felt her arms snake around his head. He felt her mouth open wider, bolder, as she yearned for a second breath
, but he didn’t want to break contact with her. The beast within him wanted her to breathe him...to scent him...to be his. Finally breaking contact, he released her lips, and silently roared, as he bounded back up the stairs and into her apartment.

Like he owned the place, he marched into her bedroom and gently placed her down on her bed. Still cradled in his arms he leaned his body over hers. This time when he kissed her he did it the
Titan way. With eyes wide open, he watched as pleasure surpassed pain. Her face flushed with desire.

Plunging his tongue over and over into her mouth
, he devoured her. She answered his thrust with her own, arousing him further. Her arms clasped his head, caused his breathing to quicken and his blood to boil. Savagely, he pushed her back onto the bed. He cupped her breasts boldly, then used his hands to push her shirt up. And still he kissed her, not wanting to break the feel of her lush lips that molded to his perfectly.

Her
fingers snaked through his hair, and he growled deep in his throat. Reality would come back to him in a second, he thought, as he finally broke contact with her lips. Undoing her bra, he pushed aside the flimsy material and wetted his lips in anticipation of devouring the peaked dark rose buds that were tight with pulsing desire. It was then he realized her hands had stilled and her eyes were wide open. She stared up at him with innocence and wonder.

And he hated her. Hated her for having this power over him. Hated her for not being able to accommodate his
Titan nature. And more than anything, he hated himself for taking advantage of her, again.

Growling he moved off her. Backed away from her lush body and
forced his breathing to normal. “Like I said we are bound together. I hope you have learned your lesson.” He marched out of the bedroom, barely controlling his passion.

Kassandra felt lightheaded.
What the hell happened
? The rational part of her brain told her this couldn’t be happening to her, while the irrational part said it not only could, it
was
.

But how? How on earth could she be bound to
him? To that Greek warrior out there, who was prowling like an angry beast around her living room? One minute she’d been confident that once she got her coffee and waited a bit that he’d be gone and then,
whammo!
Pain like she had never experienced before had consumed her. Then a feeling of bliss had settled over her body as a warm, tingly feeling made its way from her toes to her head.

That was when she
’d realized she was kissing him. Madly kissing him. Kissing him like her life deepened on it. And maybe it had. Because kissing him made her feel better. Much better. But the feel of his hands on her breasts had awakened something else within her. She wanted him. Wanted every inch of him. She had looked up at him and wondered at this strange, unfamiliar feeling crashing like waves in the pit of her stomach. Gone was the passionate lover and in its place was a stranger whose eyes were like nothing she had ever seen before. Something feral, wild and untamed loomed deep within him. And she wanted it. Wanted him. A man she didn’t know. A man, she knew to the bone, was going to ruin her life.

Now, more than anything she
should run far away from him. The shocking reality was she couldn’t. Somehow she knew he was telling the truth about their being bound together by the book. But why? Why would she be bound to him? And who exactly was he? Because he sure as hell wasn’t normal. Normal men didn’t pop naked out of a book. Normal men didn’t ooze sex like he did. And normal men didn’t make her feel like this. Wanton and wild. She wet her lips with her tongue and took a steadying breath. Vaguely she recalled thinking last night that she wanted prince charming to come and rescue her from her boring life.

Darius my prince charming.
What a sick joke.

Angry at herself for getting into this weird situation, she pushed down her shirt and marched into the living room. She could have sworn he had been talking to
someone, but no one else was there.

“Okay, mister. For now I’ll play your game. We’re bound by the book, somehow.
So how do we get unbound?” She walked past him so she could plop herself down in her blush-red lounge chair. Only then did she realize what he was doing. Stitching the gash on his stomach together with a long piece of thread and her one and only needle. To be precise, her red thread. Red because it matched her long, slinky chiffon dress. She took a step backward, feeling queasy. “What are you doing? Okay, I know what you’re doing, but I really think you’d be better off getting that done at a hospital.”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he looked at her
, and it was only then she realized sweat was breaking out on his brow. The guy was in pain. And who wouldn’t be? Before she could stop herself, she said, “Here, let me help you.”

She took the needle with the attached red thread from his hand, half expecting him to say no.
Gritting her teeth, Kassandra stitched away like she had done it a thousand times. “There,” she said at last, wiping the sweat from her own forehead. “All done.”

He just stared at her. Hard. An intense stare that rocked her to her knees.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “Pack your things. We’re going somewhere.”

Kassandra knew an order when she heard it. Living with a military father did that to you. Fighting the urge to laugh in his face, she smartly asked. “Where?”

Instead of answering her, he walked back into her bedroom and started to throw things out of her drawers and stuff them into her knapsack.
The nerve of the man!

“Ready?” he asked, an eyebrow
raised like he was just wishing for an argument.

Fighting the urge to grab the knapsack and throw absolutely everything out of it, she stood and answered, “Sure, whatever. Just how do you propose we get to wherever we’re
going?”

With her knapsack still in his clutches
, her hands were itchy. Itchy to touch him. Stilling the thought, she headed to the door and grabbed her apartment keys and wallet. No way was she going to follow him. That would be too much for her. Marching down the steps without incident, she opened the front door of the apartment building and breathed in the salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean. Instantly, she felt better.

She
felt him still beside her, as if he too was breathing in the fresh smell of the sea.

“Get in,” he ordered.

So much for its calming effects.
“Get in what?”

He moved toward
a black sleek looking Ferrari.

“That’s
yours
?” she said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It was then
that she heard the honks. Every car that drove past them honked its horn. Darius simply looked annoyed. Didn’t the guy know what he was wearing? Or how he looked?

Ignoring the honking cars, he grinned like a Cheshire
cat. On second thought, more like a lion. “For now, this is my car. Now get in.”

He spoke roughly, but he
held the door open for her in a very courtly, old-fashioned gesture that caused her stomach to do flip-flops and her heart to race. How polished he looked, even wearing faded blue jeans, a pink t-shirt and barefoot. It just went to show how damn good looking he was.

This isn’t good. Don’t get all goggle eyed at him
, Kassandra told herself as she slid her body into the warm black leather seat.
Once you sort out how to get unbound from him and the book, your life will go back to normal.
Wait a minute. The book! Where the hell was the book?

“Looking for something?” he asked casually.

“The book.”

“Don’t you worry about that. It’s here.
In the back,” he said, putting the car into gear. With a quick movement of his wrist they were moving. No racing. Winding their way through the small city streets. Heading east. She held on for dear life.

Darius used the silence to think and plan. Again he’d had to rely on Rylan’s skills to acquire what he needed
, and that bothered him more than he cared to think about. The kid was the reason he was in this mess to begin with.

Mentally, he said a silent thanks to the
Gods that the kid had taken to heart what he had said about cars. He’d held his breath as he made his way down the stairs, hoping against hope that Rylan had done what he’d asked. Seeing the black, sleek Ferrari made him feel better.

He turned to glance at Kassandra. When he thought about it
, she was handling things pretty well, considering how weird it all was. It had to be the strangest day
he’d
ever encountered in his entire existence, and that had spanned two-hundred-and thirty human years.

Stealing another glance at her
, he couldn’t help but notice how her long chestnut hair spilled gracefully down her back. Every once in a while she’d flick at her bangs to keep the curls away from her face.

And those eyes of hers. Chocolate brown. Chocolate and thongs had to be his two favorite human inventions. In fact, he thought they’d be best served together. That idea immediately made him hard. Ev
erything about her made him ache with want, and that unnerved him.

He had been amazed and actually tongue-tied when she’d taken the needle and thread out of his hand and set about
stitching him up. No one had ever done that before. Then again, he’d never had the need of stitching before. The fact that she had undertaken the task without asking a ton of questions—like why he didn’t want to go to a hospital—gave him pause. She gone pretty pale, but she hadn’t fainted at the sight of blood. Hadn’t
said
she was squeamish at all. She had nerve. Gusty nerve, which he liked.

And that wasn’t good. He didn’t want to like her. He wanted to get rid of her. Maybe once he reached his house he’d
be able to work out a sensible plan. For now, he was going on instinct. And his instinct said to go home, slip into the sea and rapture. Hoping against hope that rapturing was possible, he slammed the gear shift into fifth speed.

Her
graceful fingers turned on the radio. Good, anything to break the silence. She fiddled with the knob until she came to a singer who was singing something about a white flag going down on a ship. Her voice caused the hairs on his arm to stand on end.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

He gave her a silent nod.

“Good to know you like Dido, too
.”

“What?”

“Dido, the name of the singer.”

Go figure. Of course he liked Dido. Who the hell could resist the charms of the fresh water
Siren? She was a legend in her own right. He vaguely heard Kassandra talking about her, how she was from Britain, played the recorder when she was younger and on and on and on it went.

Part of him wanted to laugh. Dido playing the recorder. That he’d like to see. The last time he’d seen the perky fresh water
Siren, she’d been moping around the Isle channels bemoaning her fate at never finding her Sokhan, her true love.

She had sung for him then because it had been his awakening year, his
two hundredth birthday as he recalled, and he’d been away from his people, his
mardom
. She’d taken pity on him and had sung a stupid human birthday song to him that she had overheard. Her voice had been amazing, and he had told her that. Come to think of it, hadn’t he told her to stop moping around, that her voice was a gift to the world? She wouldn’t have, he thought, not liking the idea that she might have given up her nature to take human form.

“So
, are you going to tell me where we are going?” Kassandra asked, flicking the radio knob to the left.