sometimes go a couple of nights without sleeping because the nightmares get too bad.” When she looked up again, he nodded. “Your turn.”
“This conversation is peculiar,” she murmured, tilting her head to study him. When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “All right. Yes, there have been a few times in my life that I’ve gotten an odd tingle in the back of my neck that led to pain. It’s usually fleeting.” Her eyes widened. “In fact, I felt it a little when you first tried to kidnap me, but it went away.”
He stiffened. “Do you feel it now?”
“No,” she said. “Haven’t since that first moment, so I concluded it was just adrenaline or panic. You know. From the gun you pressed into my ribs.”
He winced. “I’ve apologized.” Repeatedly. What the hell did she want? “I’m the one who flew through glass and hit the asphalt.”
She lifted her head slightly. “Speaking of which. Shouldn’t you have more injuries than you do?”
“Nope.” One good thing about logical people was that they believed what they saw. Although she might take the news of his real genetics more easily than most humans; after all, she worked with outlandish theories all day long. “I tucked and rolled. Sure, I have some cuts, but nothing is broken.” He smiled. “Though you’re welcome to check me out.” Oh, he did not just say that. What was wrong with his damn mouth?
Her dark eyebrows rose. “The police theorized that you were under the influence of strong drugs.”
“I’m sure.” He stirred the pot, which was finally smelling like dinner. “I don’t do drugs, and I have the training necessary to protect myself during an event such as flying through your windshield.”
She studied him. “I’m not going to apologize.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said. “You reacted quickly and intelligently to what you considered a threat.” In fact, he was still impressed by her—especially since she’d just gotten him off track. “When were the other times you experienced the tingling and then the pain in your head?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. Once on a train, once in a crowd in New York City at a conference, and once in a restaurant at Harvard. I didn’t lose consciousness any of those times. It’s odd.” She glanced at the clock. “I’m planning to make an appointment tomorrow to get my head examined.” She chuckled, her pretty eyes lighting up. “You can make a joke about that now.”
“I don’t joke.” He stirred some more.
She sat back. “Never?”
He shook his head. “No. Even before I went through the mission that went bad, I was the serious one—the one who planned everything and kept our operation running smoothly. It was my place, and there wasn’t time for jokes.” Even when he’d been a kid and then a Viking on the open seas, life was rarely calm enough to go for the one-liner. He wouldn’t know how, anyway. “There isn’t much I find funny.” That was the truth, so he gave it to her.
“Me either.” She crossed her legs in the slim skirt. “A lot of times, when other people catch a joke, I completely miss it. I think I interpret words too literally. Subtext, sarcasm, and even humor escape me sometimes.” She sounded more thoughtful than regretful.
Man, she was cute. Nerdy and sexy and brilliant. An alluring combination for a scarred former Viking who figured he’d die in the battle coming up and was just fine with that fact. For now, his blood pumped through his veins. He wanted to choose his words carefully, but after more than a millennium of not doing so, it was probably too late to try now. “You intrigue me, Promise Williams.”
Her eyebrows rose now. “You intrigue me as well. Not the kidnapping part. But the cooking dinner and being so deadly combination.” Her gaze raked down his chest. “And you’re certainly good looking.”
Good looking? With his scars? “What are you saying?” he asked.
She sat back, for the first time looking uncertain. “What are you saying?”
Cute. So damn cute. They were under pressure, and there was a fantastic way to release that, so long as no expectations were created. He couldn’t be there for a mate, or even a girlfriend. “I was trying to find a smooth way of seeing if you wanted, to, ah—”
“Have sexual intercourse with you?” she asked.
Surprise zinged through him, and he coughed out a laugh. A real laugh. “Yes.” Then he held his breath as the stew started to bubble over.