It wasn’t like she had to actually work next to him.
He was a clan chief. His lair should be large enough for them never to cross paths, right?
As if to prove her point, Cyn was abruptly heading toward the far end of the cave, his face grim although he held the scroll with obvious care.
Far more care than he was willing to give her. Jackass. With a swift step, Fallon had moved to place herself directly in his path.
“Where are you going?”
He came to a grudging halt, his gaze narrowed. “To have a shower.”
“What about me?”
He shrugged. “Aren’t you supposed to be spying on the Oracles or something?”
Her fists clenched. She’d never hit anyone before, but now seemed a good time to start.
“Now look here, you big lug—”
“You have an obsessive fascination with my size.” He ran a slow, deliberate gaze down her tense body before leaning forward to whisper directly in her ear, “In case you’re interested, I’m large everywhere.”
The brush of his lips against her skin sent darts of white-hot excitement sizzling through her.
How was that possible?
She’d lived with the most beautiful men in the world. Her own fiancé, Magnus, was breathtaking. But never, ever had one of them made her so acutely aware of being a woman. As if Cyn had some magical ability to arouse her darkest, most intimate desires.
Jerking back, she sent him a glare. “Well, your head is certainly bloated.”
His gaze lingered on her mouth. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”
She wouldn’t lick her lips. She wouldn’t.
Her tongue peeked out, swiping her lower lip with a provocative movement. Instantly Cyn’s eyes darkened with a scorching heat.
Fallon stiffened. What was wrong with her?
“I’m not trying to charm you,” she stubbornly denied.
“Fine.”
Abruptly he’d stepped around her, clearly intending to leave her abandoned in the caves.
“Wait.”
He sent an impatient glance over his shoulder. “Now what?”
“We’re obviously stuck with one another for now,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
“Do you have a point?”
Heathen. Barbarian. Hulking, gorgeous, pain in the ass.
She counted to ten.
“You could at least try to be civil.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “And what does ‘civil’ entail?”