Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
There went his hidden reserve of energy. The stockpile he used to heal instantly on a battlefield.
His everyday energy sprang a leak, depleting him further. Still he worked.
He was just finishing up when Neeka gasped and blinked.
“What did you see?” he demanded. Sweat dampened his skin. His limbs trembled.
Ashen, she looked anywhere but him. “No, thank you. This vision was personal, so I’m keeping it to myself.”
That, he didn’t like but understood. Rather than prod, using up more strength, he flashed to the kitchen, grabbed the backpack, and returned. “I expect results, harpy,” he said after forcing her to face him.
“You always do.” Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she licked her own.
Was the vision, perhaps, sexual in nature?
He offered her a slow grin and slid his arms around her, loving the way her breath caught. “Try to keep your mind on the mission, harpy.”
She narrowed her eyes, as if she suspected what he suspected. “You, too, Majesty.”
In a fantastic mood now, Rathbone flashed.
9
Focus. Forget the vision.
Shivering, Neeka stuffed the astounding images inside a mental box, then shoved that box into a dark corner of her mind. To be opened later. When she was alone. Sitting in an ice bath. The action failed to negate the wild mix of emotions whirling inside her. Triumph. Trepidation. Longing. So much longing.
She cast the shirtless Rathbone a swift glance and gulped. The bulging backpack hung from one of his broad shoulders. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his wealth of glorious muscles. A handful of mátia continually scanned the area, seeking hidden foes. The others remained closed. Well, three kept watch over her, and she liked it far more than she should.
She did her best to take in the sights. They traversed the mean streets of Nova, a strange land both futuristic and ancient. Windowed tunnels connected towering buildings made of a shiny silver metal. An overgrowth of greenery climbed the walls. Cobblestone paths intersected with sparkly, translucent roads, both teeming with a ginormous military force. Little wonder her sense of danger magnified with every step.
Turning a corner, they entered a bustling city square. The array of shopping centers doubled as a training ground. Soldiers congregated in each direction. She spotted vampires, shifters, gorgons, gargoyles, and banshees. Most were young, but all were learning to brandish different weapons. Older generations patrolled here and there alongside countless residents weaving in and out of various shops.
Many females were dressed as a sexual fantasy come to life, the same as Neeka. She blended in seamlessly; Rathbone did not. He earned speculative glances from anyone they passed. He was too big, too red, too unique, and dang it, too smoldery.
Thankfully, his distinctive appearance aided her endgame.
To succeed, she was gonna have to tick him off royally.
Might as well advance her pre-elixir seduction while she had the chance. Maybe he’d be so overcome with lust, he would forgive her for the event to come.
The mental box she’d just hidden burst open. Dang it! She’d forgotten to double and triple check the lock. A mini-movie played her mind.
Rathbone pinned her against a wall papered with flowers. He lowered his head and smashed his lips to hers, kissing the air from her lungs.
Kissing her. Neeka.
Not Lore.
And that wasn’t all!
The picture morphed, revealing a naked Rathbone. He stood in his bathroom doorway. Water dotted his lashes and cascaded along row after row of scarlet strength. He was hard, his piercings straining. The mátia glittered with desperate need as they watched a clothed Neeka.
He stalked toward her...
In the present, real Rathbone shook her. “Why are you panting, oracle?” he asked as soon as she focused. He swiped out an arm, yanking her out of someone’s path. Did he look ready to laugh?
Eek! Realizing she’d been staring at his lips, relying on him to act as her guide, she snapped, “I’m not panting. You’re panting.”
She forced her gaze straight ahead, ending the conversation. How soon till he kissed her?
Would they have sex?
A mewl of need escaped.
Would he ditch her immediately afterward?
She huffed with indignation. No future, no sex. But she could and should enjoy his seduction, yes? Maybe accept an orgasm or twenty. Otherwise, he’d grow suspicious of her motives.
“We’re lost, aren’t we?” Rathbone asked, frustration beginning to etch his expression.
Oops. She’d been staring at his mouth again. Not her fault. That lip-lock...
“We aren’t lost. We’re getting to know the world before we invade the palace.” The imposing structure topped a steep mountain in the distance. “Trust the process, Rathbone-san.”
“Trusting the process means trusting you.”
“And you don’t?” she asked, as if she was too dense to find the clues even with a miner’s hat and a magnifying glass.
“I trust only myself.”
Smart. “Not the oh, so charming Lore?”
“And Lore,” he confirmed after a slight hesitation.
Oh, oh. What was this? Trouble in paradise? Perhaps splitting up the couple would be an easier chore than anticipated.