The Nymph King (Atlantis #3)(62)

"I... I choose neither." She wasn't going to bathe with him, and she wasn't going to watch him. Water droplets would trickle down his neck, perhaps catch on his nipples before falling to the ridges of muscle on his stomach. His soap-lathered hands would glide over his strength. "I want to go back to my room."

"You'll watch or you'll join. This is a give-and-take between us, Shaye. I give you time, and now you must give me something in return. Choose."

Her lashes nearly fused all the way together, leaving only a tiny line of vision. He occupied every inch of it. "What happened to giving me everything that I want?"

"You do not know what you want." He closed the rest of the gap between them, so close his chest brushed hers. Behind him, he left a trail of sand and blood. His wounds had opened. He showed not an ounce of pain, proving just how capable he truly was. A warrior, through and through.

His scent filled her nose, sexual and fierce. Heat curled from him, wrapping her in sultry coils, squeezing so tightly she had trouble dragging in her next breath. A rush of passion flooded her.

He was the kind of man women fantasized about but never actually encountered. And he continually offered himself to her, an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of erotic delights. Whatever she could consume was hers for the taking.

How tempting it was to take...

He licked his lips and leaned toward her. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, an eternity passing between each one. Accept him or reject him, but do it now!

Gathering her strength, she jerked away from him, nearly tripping on her own feet as she scrambled backward. "No," she said. "No."

A muscle ticked beneath his eyes. "Never has a word sounded more foul," he said between clenched teeth.

She raised her chin. "It's all you're going to hear from me."

"I could push you for more, Shaye. We both know I could. We both know you'd like it."

"No," she said again. This time it was a trembling, wispy entreaty.

Struggling with the force of his need, Valerian paused and studied Shaye. Damn this! He didn't want to force her to acknowledge her desires. He wanted her to accept them - and him - willingly.

When she'd told him she was virgin, he'd simply reacted. Blood and need had traveled through him at lightning speed. His cock had hardened painfully. The need to brand her as his woman had sung in his ears. He'd known, deep down, that she'd waited for him. He only wished he'd waited for her.

He felt like a virgin with her, however. Unsure, eager. Excited by the possibilities. In such a short time, she'd become everything to him.

Want me. Come to me.

She didn't. And as the minutes ticked by, her resolve to resist him seemed to intensify. Finally he said, "Yet again I find that I am unable to force you to accept what is inevitable."

"Valerian," she said in that shaky voice.

"Not another word, moon."

"It's not you, okay. Well, maybe it is. A little. I just... can't, okay. I can't let myself want you. Not yet." He looked tortured again, she thought, sad and wistful and rock hard. "I wish I could. I do. But... " Too many things stood in the way. The thought of letting someone so close to her was terrifying.

He stalked from the main room and into the bathing area without another word, leaving her alone. Alone with only her throbbing body, her treacherous thoughts.

Why had he left? He'd said he meant to make her choose.

Doesn't matter, she decided in the next instant. He isn't the man for you. He liked sex, and he liked it with multiple women. Shaye wasn't her mother and wouldn't accept the small scraps of affection some man decided to toss her way. She wouldn't fall in love, using the fickle emotion as an excuse to have the good while tolerating too much of the bad.

She liked being alone, was content that way. And her deepest feminine instincts sensed that to make love with Valerian was to fall so deeply in love with the man that she'd give up everything for him. Even herself.

The curtain blocking her view from the bathing pool continued to rustle. The sound of falling clothing echoed, then the splash of water. She gulped. Was he naked? Most likely. Steam was probably wafting around him. His skin probably glistened with moisture. He probably resembled an angel floating through the heavens.

In that instant all the reasons she'd rejected him faded from her thoughts. Desire. So much desire. She'd said she wouldn't watch him bathe, but one peek suddenly didn't seem so bad. One peek... Really, there was no harm in that.

Unbidden, she found her feet moving toward the entrance. He couldn't possibly be as exquisite as she was imagining. Could he? She quietly peeled the curtain to the side - but only a little. Valerian's naked back came into view. Muscles rippled under tawny skin as he cupped and poured water over himself.

Steam did indeed waft around him, making him appear nothing more than a dream, a fantasy, a genie visiting from a lamp, come to grant her every wish. His hair was soaked and dripping down his back. She bit her lip. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to be with him once and finally put her body out of its misery. If she guarded her heart, she could use him and be done with him. Right?

He turned to the side and clamped his hand around a sapphire glass bottle. He poured whatever was inside - more of that orchid oil? - into his other hand. Oh, to be that oil, she thought, watching, throat constricted as he rubbed the oil into his chest. The fragrance joined the steam and floated to her.