Yeah, right. He still hadn't eaten his boots either, and he'd rather feast on one of them than that thing in her hand.
"I'm not hungry."
At least not for food.
She dropped the muffin to the counter and he swore it thunked. Her brow furrowing, she reached out and touched his tore. Her fingers brushed against the skin of his neck, raising chills and other things on his body.
"This is so beautiful. I've always wanted a tore, but never could find one that seemed like me." She ran her thumb over the right dragon head. "Are you from Scotland?"
"Not exactly," he said, watching the way she studied the piece, which had been a gift from his aunt on his wedding day. Both he and Nynia had received matching tores from her. He didn't know why he still wore it, other than the fact that taking it off would cause him more pain than he was willing to deal with. In some odd way, removing the tore would be like losing Nynia all over again.
Against his will, his mind drifted back to the moment when Nynia had placed the tore around his neck. Her smile had been blinding and her face filled with love as she kissed him on his lips.
Gods, how he missed her. Even after all these centuries.
There were times when he swore he could still smell the warmth of her hair. Feel her touch. It was like the ghost itch of a missing limb that, even years later, you swore you could still feel.
There was something about Sunshine that reminded him of his wife. And it wasn't just the fact that both women possessed the ability to drive him crazy.
Sunshine was strangely fascinating. Much like him, she saw things on another level, things that were hidden from this plane of existence.
Her mind flashed from one thing to another like bursts of lightning, which was as intriguing as it was confusing. Nynia was the only other person he'd ever met with that trait.
As a mortal man, he had often been confounded by Nynia's unique logic.
"You know," Sunshine said, "you say 'not exactly' a lot. You're not exactly a vampire. You're not exactly from Scotland, and you're allergic to daylight. What else?"
"I hate bran muffins and grass."
She laughed at that, a rich, throaty sound that warmed him. He watched in fascination as she used a stained rag to clean the charcoal from her long, elegant fingers. "So how long until your friends get here?"
"A couple of hours, no doubt. I live way outside of town."
Sunshine looked down at the towel around his hips. If she kept him here like that, there was no telling what might happen.
Actually there was, which meant she really needed to get some clothes on him... fast.
He took a deep breath, the gesture accentuating the muscled indentations of his hard, defined abs.
Oh yeah, she needed to cover up that temptation.
"I tell you what, Mr. Talon No-Last-Name. Why don't I go out and get you something to put on until your friends get here?"
Because I don't want you to leave. Talon blinked at the bizarre, uncharacteristic thought.
Where had that come from?
There was something compelling about this woman. Something strong and at the same time vulnerable. He felt in her a need to make amends for what she'd done to him. Why, he couldn't imagine. Especially since she had saved his life.
Had she left him out on the street, he would be dead now. A fried stain on the sidewalk.
"You don't have to, you know."
"I know. But I insist. It's the least I could do since I destroyed your pants."
As he looked at her kind, compelling face, which was framed by straight, jet-black hair, he became fascinated by the way her lips curved. The way they held a hint of a smile even while she was relaxed. Sunshine was more than just her name, it was also her attitude. Happy, warm.
She was totally irresistible and he wanted a taste of her so badly that he wasn't sure why he hadn't already sampled her.