Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(34)

“No, I don’t mind.”

She sat down—actually, she perched on the edge of the bed. Still he changed position so that there was no way his legs were in any danger of touching any part of her body. His blue eyes were watching her warily.

“You said you can help me sleep.”

“I can,” she said.

“How?” But before she could answer he added, “I won’t drink a potion or smoke a vile-tasting weed.”

“Fine with me.”

“Then how?”

Kat thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to describe hypnotism to a warrior from the ancient world. Finally she settled for, “It’s a spell I can do with Athena’s power. An oracle thing.”

He nodded and looked serious. “The goddess does have vast powers. What must you do?”

“Actually, it’s more something that you do and I help you with. Hang on.” Kat went through the curtains and lifted a dimmed lantern from its hook, bringing it back to sit on Achilles’ bedside table. She turned the wick down even lower, so that there was only a small flickering flame. Satisfied, she returned to her precarious perch on the bed. “To start with, you have to relax,” Kat told him.

He looked skeptical.

She smiled. “Just trust me. I’m the oracle.”

“Well, oracle, were I able to relax I would be able to sleep. So there, you see, is the problem.”

“All right, let’s just talk. Maybe I can sneak the spell in.”

“Talk?”

“Yeah, a lot like we’re doing right now. And a lot like we were doing earlier tonight.”

He looked away from her. “I owe you an apology, Princess. I should not have touched you as I did.”

“If I remember correctly, I touched you first.”

“I should not have allowed it. It was dangerous.”

“Odysseus told me about the rage that overtakes you,” Kat said slowly.

“That is why I shouldn’t have allowed it,” he said.

“Does it happen every time you, uh, kiss a woman?”

His eyes met hers again. “It happens when I become aroused.”

“Every time?” Kat asked softly.

“I—I do not know.”

“What does that mean? How can’t you know?”

His blue eyes met hers. “Simple.” Achilles moved so fast she had no warning. One moment he was sitting there. The next he’d lunged forward and grabbed her wrists, pulling her forward so that her face was just inches from his.

“I cannot know because I do not usually allow myself to desire a woman. To touch a woman. Not as I am desiring and touching you now.”

Oh, shit, Kat thought. It would have been easier if I’d been sent to hell.

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Really?” Kat kept her voice carefully neutral. “So you didn’t manhandle and then proceed to scare the living shit out of Briseis?”

Her words had the desired effect on him. The rusty light that was beginning to tinge his eyes faded and he let loose her wrists as if she’d burned him.

“No,” he said shortly. “I never touched the maiden Briseis.”

Kat quelled the urge to rub at the marks he was sure to have left on her wrists. “You didn’t touch her, but she was scared of you anyway, wasn’t she?”

“She was.”

“Okay, this is something you need to understand once and for all. I. Am. Not. Like. Briseis. Actually I’m not like any of the women you’ve ever known. If you and I are going to get along—and I think we are—you’re just going to have to accept that and quit judging me like you would other women.” She looked around and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw another goblet sitting on the bedside table. “God, I need a drink.” Kat got up, grabbed the goblet and headed for the pitcher of wine she’d already started to empty. She glanced through the gauze curtain back at Achilles. “Mind if I have a glass of wine?”

He looked perplexed. Again. “Of course not.”

“Good.” She poured a full goblet and then, carrying the pitcher with her, went back to his bed. She set the pitcher on the bedside table next to the lantern, then this time Kat didn’t perch nervously on the edge of the bed like she was a demented pigeon scared of a statue (a.k.a. Achilles) who had suddenly come alive. She plopped down on the bed, curling her legs under her comfortably, sitting closer to Achilles, and took a long drink of the excellent red wine before she spoke. “Okay, here’s the deal. I think I can help you. Not just with your nonsleeping issue, but also with your, well, nontouching-of-a-woman-you’re-attracted-to issue, too.” She gave him a nervous little smile. “That’s assuming that you really are attracted to me.”

His mouth twitched in his little almost-smile. “I am.”

“But if you touch me too much, which, and again I’m assuming, includes stuff like the make-out session we had on the beach earlier, you’re going to have a problem with turning from you”—Kat pointed to him and then off into the distance, kind of like he was part of a PowerPoint presentation—“to that other you I almost met this evening.”

“Then you don’t see me as him.”

The tension in Achilles’ voice was beyond obvious, and Kat reached out slowly to rest her fingers lightly against a puckered scar that ran the length of his left bicep.