The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(55)

Her eyes widened and she peered over at him. "How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." He knew women, even if he couldn't get close to any one of them. While most loved all things romantic, they hid their romance novels as if they were something to be ashamed of. They couldn't know that he read them. He loved them, actually, and would have liked a happy ending for himself.

Until the impossible became possible - aka the Titans dressed in tutus and waved their magic wands while dancing and singing about love - he'd just have to make do.

Finally they rounded the corner and the outdoor caf¨| came into view. Circular tables and high-backed chairs were lined in front of a large glass window. One was vacant, so they quickly claimed it.

"How long have you been in Greece?" she asked, settling the papers and her purse in her lap.

"A little more than a week, but I've been working."

"Oh, that's terrible. You haven't had a chance to see the sights, have you?" She propped her elbows on the tabletop and peered over at him, expression rapt. "Are you here alone or with a group?"

Ignoring her question, he said, "I'm looking at the best sight right now." All right, boy. That's getting a little cheesy, even for you. What, you gonna ask her to research the love scenes of her book next? Bring it down a notch.

She blushed once more, though, a pretty pinkening of her freckled skin. His cock throbbed in reaction.

A waitress arrived and they placed their orders. He was surprised when his companion - what had she said her name was? - ordered straight, black coffee. He would have placed money on something sweet. He ordered a double espresso for himself.

When the drinks arrived a few minutes later, he returned his attention to Freckles. She became lovelier by the second, he realized. Underneath the freckles, her skin was a creamy shade of pearl, her eyes now more green than brown.

"Thank you for the coffee," she said, sipping. She reached over with her free hand to pat his fingers. At the instant of contact, warm, heady tingles raced up his arm - unexpected and as exquisite as she suddenly was.

She gasped. He fought a moan.

"My pleasure," he answered, arousal building...building...Was it too soon to make a move? Would she run?

"So, you never told me. What are you doing in Greece?" She pulled her hand away, but stared at his as if there were something wrong with it.

"I just felt like traveling," he lied. Wait. He'd mentioned something about work a bit ago. "For work. I'm a...model." It was a lie he'd used time and time again.

"Wow," she said, obviously distracted. Frowning, she reached out and touched his hand again.

Again, tingles rushed through him. And her, as well, it seemed. She gasped a second time and turned her hand over, studying it. Perhaps now was a good time to make his move, after all.

"I love the feel of your skin."

Shifting nervously, she looked away. "Thank you."

Slowly, so slowly, he claimed her hand and raised it to his mouth. He placed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. The warm tingles sparked between them, constant now, and so erotic he was willing to beg her to sleep with him.

When she didn't protest, he licked her pulse.

Gasping, she jerked. Not away from him, but in surprised...delight? He'd never had to wonder before, but couldn't quite read her expression. Couldn't release her, either. Touching her was like touching a live wire, pinning him in place, holding him captive with those electric jolts.

"I never do this," she said on a catch of breath. "I never have coffee with strange men or let them kiss me. Especially not male models."

"But I'm not kissing you."

"Oh. Well. I just meant - well, I just meant my wrist. You were kissing my wrist."

"I'd like to kiss you." He drank her in through the thick fan of his lashes. "Truly kiss you."

"Why? Don't get me wrong," she rushed out. "I'm glad. But why me?"

"You're a desirable woman."

"I am?"

"Oh, yes." His voice was husky with arousal. "Can't you feel the hum of my desire?"

"I - I - " She chewed on her lower lip again. A nervous habit?

It was endearing, but he wanted to chew on that lip.

"I don't know what to say," she said. She traced a fingertip over her mouth, as if she was imagining his tongue there, too.

"Say yes."

"But we're strangers."

"We don't have to be." Gods, he couldn't wait to taste her. All of her.

"We could, I don't know, go to my hotel room," she suggested shyly. "If you wanted to, that is. We can have a drink or something. I mean, more than coffee. But I'm not suggesting you have to have more if you don't want to. Oh, crap. I'm nervous! I'm sorry."

"Let's go somewhere new to both of us." He never entered a mortal's quarters. He'd made that mistake only once. And he couldn't take her to his temporary new home. That would place the other warriors in danger if Hunters were to follow. That left getting a hotel room himself. "Somewhere close."

"I - I - " she stammered again.

He pushed up, leaning toward her, and meshed his mouth over hers. She immediately opened without protest, and he swept his tongue inside for a hot, searing kiss. Her taste - better than he could have imagined. Mint and lemons, coffee and total passion. Already a lance of strength shot through him.