Demon Hunting with a Dixie Deb - Lexi George Page 0,25
the dress she’d been wearing. It was a goner, she decided with a twinge of regret. She threw it in the trash. What on earth was she going to wear to her meeting tomorrow? She couldn’t traipse around town in her skivvies.
She’d worry about that later. Right now, she was ravenous. Whatever delicacy Grim had concocted smelled divine. Reentering the kitchen, she took a seat at the island. Grim had his back to her. Propping her elbows on the granite countertop, she watched Grim, enjoying the play of muscles in his back, shoulders, and arms as he worked. His medieval warrior garb was gone, and he wore jeans and a tee shirt.
“You changed clothes,” she said.
Grim put the lid on the skillet and turned to face her. A shock of awareness zinged through her. His chestnut hair was damp, framing his stern, perfect features. The cotton shirt stretched across his wide chest and the jeans hugged his powerful thighs. He looked hard and dangerous, aloof and solitary, and sexy as hell.
Sassy gave a mental sigh. Grim Dalvahni was an unassailable island fortress. The man’s mouth alone was a work of art—firm lipped and sensual, begging to be kissed into something other than that habitual intractable line. If she weren’t engaged, she’d settle in for a lengthy siege. But she was engaged. She and Wes were made for one another. Similar interests and backgrounds, same social circle and expectations. Their parents even belonged to the same clubs and vacationed together.
“I performed my ablutions in the bathing chamber upstairs,” Grim said. “I hope you do not mind.”
“Of course not. Where’d you get the duds?”
They couldn’t be Trey’s. Grim was half a foot taller and a mountain of muscles.
Grim’s gaze went unfocused, as though he were listening to someone else. “Ah, you refer to my clothes. I have not had time to assimilate, so I copied Duncan’s attire.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “Humans would call it magic. Does my garb meet with your approval?”
He magicked his clothes into existence? Were they real, or an illusion? If she ran her hands over that splendid toned body, would she encounter cloth or bare skin? The thought made her pulse gallop.
“Sassy?”
She cleared her throat and leaped off the train to Hornyville. “You look great.”
Great? He was gorgeous.
“You find me physically attractive.”
It was a statement, not a question. Oh, Lord, what if he could read her thoughts? She’d die of embarrassment. She pasted a bright smile on her face to cover her discomposure.
“You’re very handsome, but I’m sure you know that.”
“A Dalvahni warrior does not consider such things. Nevertheless, I am gratified you approve.” His honeyed gaze moved over her. “Oddly enough, I find you attractive, too.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“I am not adept at blandishments. It was not my intent to insult you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
He looked at her with an intensity that was unnerving. The man was sincere.
“Actually, it’s sort of refreshing. Most guys lay it on thick.”
“Lay what on thick?”
“Never mind. How does magic work? Do you wiggle your nose and things appear?”
His brows lowered in disapproval. “A Dalvahni warrior does not ‘wiggle.’ We make what we require for the hunt and to blend in.”
“That’s no fun. If I could do magic, I’d make shoes. Hundreds and hundreds of pairs of shoes. Darling little flats and sexy pumps, and boots in every color. A girl can never have too many shoes.”
“It sounds profligate, not to mention impractical.”
“I don’t care,” Sassy said. “I love shoes. My shoes wouldn’t have a closet. They’d have their own zip code.” She shook her finger at him. “Which reminds me, I want my sandals back, you thief.”
“Thief?” The air stilled in Sassy’s lungs as Grim’s gaze fastened on the bare skin of her exposed calf. “I merely equipped you with something more sensible.”
“They weren’t sensible. They were hideous. Shoes should be pretty.”
“Shoes should be practical and serve a purpose. Your shoes are ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” Sassy snapped her fingers. “That’s it, buddy. Hand them over.”
“If you insist.”
Her sandals appeared on the countertop.
Sassy snatched them up and hugged them to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. Now things can go back to normal.”
The corners of Grim’s mouth twitched. “The state of your footwear has no effect on the universe. Your troubles began when you ran your carriage into the stream.”
“Mother-of-pearl, the car,” Sassy said with a groan. “Daddy Joel’s going to kill me.”
The flicker of amusement on Grim’s face vanished. “Direct me to this Joel. I will tear him limb from limb.”