she said, more to remind herself than to halt Roke. For god’s sake, she was supposed to be escaping from this prison, not drowning in a sensual hunger for the man holding her captive.
Roke folded his hands beneath his head, regarding her with a sinful smile. “I like the sound of that.”
She licked her lips, which still tingled from his skillful kiss. “I mean, I need my strength so we can escape.”
“Escape?” He slowly sat upright, running a hungry glance down her body. “The only place we’re going is to my private rooms. The faster the better.”
He reached for her, but this time Sally was prepared. Scrambling to her feet, she retreated until her back hit the far wall.
Concentrate, Sally, she warned herself. Concentrate or die.
“Roke, please, you must listen to me.”
Regret rippled over his lean face as he rose to his feet, roughly shoving back the thick strands of his hair. “Forgive me, my sweet. I’m not usually so lacking in control.” He shook his head, his expression bemused. “You have bewitched me.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she breathed, guilt piercing her heart.
This proud warrior was going to hate her when he came to his senses and discovered what she’d done. She didn’t doubt that he would rather die than feel emotions for a skanky witch.
Of course, he already hated her, she reminded herself. So what did it matter?
Pretending that it didn’t, she made herself hold her ground as he cautiously approached, as if she were a wild animal he didn’t want to startle. Then, cupping her face in a tender hand, he rubbed a thumb over her cheek.
“We can take this as slow as you need,” he promised. “Just so long as we’re together.”
It was a spell. The warmth in his eyes. The gentleness of his touch. She knew that better than anyone. So why did it feel so real?
Crap. She thrust away the ridiculous thought, forcing herself to concentrate on the only thing that mattered.
Getting the hell out of this cell.
“Yes, but we both know that Styx won’t allow that,” she reminded him. “He thinks I’m the enemy.”
“No,” he denied. “Not the enemy.”
“Then why am I being held in this cell?”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. “I will speak with him. . . .”
“No, please, Roke.” She lifted her hands to clutch at his shoulders, her expression openly pleading. “We have to leave here.”
He frowned as her magical compulsion clashed with his loyalty to his Anasso. “Leave?”
“It’s the only way we can be together.”
Several tense minutes passed before he at last gave a grudging nod of his head. “Yes.”
She released a shaky sigh of relief. “Can you get us out of the dungeons?”
He frowned. “That’s no problem, but we’ll never be able to leave the lair without alerting Styx’s guards.”
“Once we’re away from this cell I’ll be able to use my magic,” she assured him.
There was another pause, then abruptly taking hold of her hand, he pulled her toward the cell door.
“Stay close.”
Chapter 11
North of the Louisiana wetlands
Nefri hid a grimace as they skirted past the small town. The violence that had tainted the air was slowly fading and the residents were gratefully settling in for a peaceful night.
Unfortunately, the promise of serenity did nothing to end the cold prickles of displeasure that radiated from her companion.
Santiago was in a crappy mood and he wanted to make sure he shared the misery.
Not that she was blameless, she ruefully acknowledged.
She’d been so intent on scurrying back behind her defensive walls that she’d totally forgotten the potency of male pride.
Santiago wouldn’t consider the idea that her rigid composure might be her way of coping with the overwhelming night of passion. Or that she might not be comfortable with the realization that she’d made herself vulnerable to him in a way she hadn’t for centuries.
Of course not.
He was used to females who fawned and fluttered over him. The kind of women who stroked his ego with assurances that he was a magnificent lover and no doubt begged for the opportunity to remain in his bed.
That knowledge did nothing for her own mood and it was a relief when there was a flutter of wings and Levet floated down from a nearby tree branch.
“At last,” the tiny gargoyle complained. “I had begun to fear that you had forgotten me.”
“I couldn’t be so lucky,” Santiago snarled, stepping past Levet to head toward the truck nearly hidden by the thick brush.
Levet sniffed, moving to walk at Nefri’s side. “What crawled up his ear?”
“My ass,