Every argument, every sound reason, every piece of shielding and armor she had ever erected to protect herself tried to crowd the understanding out. You hardly know him. How can you even trust him? He’s not even human!
She gasped when that last thought sent leaps of forbidden excitement along her every major artery. Menes had saved Jackson’s life. Had Blended with him and given him these incredible powers as well as making him nigh indestructible, but … what else had the Blending enhanced on him?
She flushed crimson, or so it felt, and she tried to turn her head. “Not this time,” he scolded her softly. “Face it or embrace it, but whatever you’re feeling in this moment, do not run away from it.”
“I’m not running,” she said softly, sounding no more convincing to herself than she must have sounded to him. “I’m just very overwhelmed, Jackson. The past forty-eight hours …”
With what sounded like a very reluctant sigh, Jackson eased back from her, giving her room to breathe and, coincidentally, room to catch a chill. The man was like a living furnace, giving off an almost volcanic heat. Or maybe that was just her perception because …
Marissa shook the thought away. There were more important things to worry about … and to say.
“How do I know you’re not just saying all of this because …” She didn’t know how to say it without sounding cold and accusatory, and some part of her acknowledged he’d never done anything to earn the blight on his character.
“Because you think I’m just looking for a vessel for my queen?” Even with him saying it for her it sounded awful, but it needed to be said. It needed to be addressed. “I came back here with many things on my agenda, Marissa, and I would be lying to you if I said that finding an original for my beloved wasn’t the most crucial of all to me.” He took yet another step away, and she had to tamp down the craziest urge to follow after him. My god, if nothing else the man is utterly magnetic, she thought fiercely. “And I do want you for Hatshepsut. But I want you for me as well,” he said, the abiding craving in his tone running deep with truth. “You are thinking in a single and linear fashion when you consider my faithfulness to Hatshepsut. But, as you know, there is no singularity in any src="kindle:embed:000n when relationship I form. It is, if you will excuse the crude sketch of it, a ménage a quatre, Marissa,” he said. “Multiple individuals coming together to enjoy the pleasure of one another. All have given permission and all understand there is no place for jealousies or peevishness. My queen would want me to find a woman not only for her to live with, but one I could live with as well. If I like her, that is good. If I admire her, all the better. If I lust for her, well, it will only add to the lust I already have for my queen, and I assure you that is quite significant.”
With a flash of blinding realization she thought of all the possible combinations that existed when potentially four people were in bed together. The minute it raced through her mind she knew she was blushing straight to the roots of her hair.
“Ahh,” he said on a soft exhalation of breath, his body reclaiming half the distance he had been putting between them. “Does the idea excite you, hummingbird? Does it make you curious? I can’t see you being anything less than eaten up with curiosity. I’m beginning to see it is an essential part of who you are. After all, the job you do is all about seeing into other peoples’ lives. You get to hear all their desires, all those secret things they would never tell anyone else. All the while, there you sit, living an experience like a voyeur where it is safe and secure. But safety is highly overrated, Marissa,” he said, the richness of his tone flowing over her like a suggestive caress. “It is so much more exciting to live it firsthand. As long as you are with someone who will keep you safe.”
That made her laugh, a nervous sound to stave off the tightening of her throat and queen. She is
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jackson was watching her face very closely at that point, waiting like a cat in front of a mouse hole, waiting for it