Her legs shaking, Amanda rose slowly to her knees and moved over him to keep his arm from being twisted any more.
He didn't move.
She trailed her gaze over his body. A long black leather coat, black jeans, and a black crew-neck shirt combined to give him an extremely dangerous appearance even while lying on the floor. His feet were covered by a pair of black biker boots with strange silver inlays in the heels.
His wavy blond hair fell over his face and met the collar of his coat, obscuring his features from her view.
"Excuse me?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you alive?"
As soon as her hand touched the hard, lean muscle of his biceps, her breath faltered. His prone body was like coiled steel. There wasn't a bit of a fleshy feel to him. He was all lithe, strong power.
Oh my, my.
Before she could stop herself, Amanda ran her hand down his arm. The feel of it!
She let out a slow, appreciative breath.
"Guy? Mister?" she tried again, shaking his hard, muscular shoulder. "Mr. Goth man, would you please wake up so I can leave? I really don't want to hang out in a closet with a dead man any longer than I have to, okay? C'mon, please, don't make this a Weekend at Bernie's thing. There's only one of me and you're a really big, big guy."
He didn't budge.
Okay, I'll have to try something else.
Biting her lip, Amanda rolled him onto his back. His hair fell away from his face at the same moment his collar did.
Her breath caught in her throat. Okay, now she was majorly impressed.
He was gorgeous. His jaw was strong and defined, his cheekbones high. His face was aristocratically boned, and he had just the tiniest hint of a cleft in his chin.
Oh baby, this man possessed that rare masculine beauty that only a few, very lucky women ever saw in the flesh.
Better still, he had the best looking lips she'd ever seen. Full and expressive, that mouth had been made for long, hot kisses.
In fact, the only flaw on his face was a hairline scar that ran across the lower edge of his jaw, from his ear to his chin.
He could easily rival Grace's husband for handsomeness. And Julian the Demigod was a hard man to compete with.
But then, Amanda had never been all that impressed with the way men looked. She preferred their minds over their bodies. Especially since most of the men she knew who looked even half this good generally had IQs that were smaller than her combined shoe size.
Unlike Tabitha, it took more than a cute butt and wide shoulders to turn her head.
Although...
Amanda ran her gaze over his lean, muscular body. In the case of this man, she might be willing to make an exception.
Provided he wasn't dead, anyway.
Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her hand against his tawny neck to check his pulse. A strong, heavy heartbeat thumped against her fingertips.
Relieved he was alive, she tried to shake him again. "Hey, yummy leather guy? Can you hear me?"
He moaned low in his throat, then slowly blinked his eyes open. Amanda started at the sight of those eyes. They were so dark they appeared black, and when they focused on her, they dilated menacingly.
With a curse, he grabbed her by the shoulders.
Before she could move, he rolled over with her, pinning her against the floor beneath his body as he held her wrists above her head.
Those dark, captivating eyes searched hers suspiciously.