Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,69

I hadn’t been rescued in years. I kind of loved it.

At the same time, it made me mad that he’d reminded me of it. A combined rush of exhaustion, lust and anger made me flustered. “Well . . . you’re . . .”

“I’m what?” he challenged.

“You’re . . . being such a guy right now,” I snapped.

He looked surprised. I guess he’d been expecting a better comeback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means.” I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore; all I knew was that I was so tired and irritated that I was practically punch-drunk. But my biggest distraction was being turned on by Cyrus having burst in and save the day like that. Even now, bickering back and forth, I couldn’t help but notice the dark glint in his blue eyes, the way his rumpled shirt tightened around his shoulders and biceps . . . My weird attraction to him had only grown, and now my ancient blood craved him like a drug.

Deep down, I knew why he did it for me. I could admit it now. When I looked at him I didn’t see a dangerous, brutish thug. I didn’t see a former villain, or even someone whose true nature was all about looking out for number one. I saw the real Cyrus, and I liked what I saw. I saw the man willing to give up everything for a child who would never know him. I saw a warrior, someone who would fight until the death if need be for whoever was at his side. It was making me rethink my entire attitude toward mortals. Though I didn’t relish the thought of watching him grow old and die. But he wasn’t going to do that at right this moment.

“Well . . . you’re being a woman.” His comeback turned out as lame as mine. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he was saying either. I suppose neither of us was in any shape to argue. I had gone from drop-dead tired to straight-up ogling, and the way he was starting to look at me was anything but congenial. It was more like he wanted to rip off my clothes here and now. Maybe he was even wound up enough that he would.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one thinking very dirty thoughts right now,” I whispered, moving toward him. When had my breathing sped up? I prayed he wouldn’t react like he had the other times I’d come on to him. Although he hadn’t exactly pushed me away during that last kiss . . .

“It’s not just you.”

“We’re locked in here together,” I said carefully, closing the distance, “for who knows how long. At least twenty-four hours.”

“This is true.” He didn’t move as I approached him, just eyed me with caution, like I was wild animal that might turn on him at any moment. Maybe I would.

“There is something we could do to pass the time,” I said. “Something we probably should have done a long time ago.”

“But we’d still have to find something else to do for the other twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes.”

That did it. I burst out laughing.

He just smiled.

“God, don’t be disappointing me like that, Cyrus!” I said, taking his hand and leading him toward the bar. “Weren’t you the one that promised me a life-changing experience?”

I didn’t say another word but skirted the bar and walked to the curtained-off area that was my domain. I brushed the heavy black drape aside and set about turning on the lights—not the off-putting spotlight I usually kept here, but a softer and diffuse magical light, as if there were many candles scattered around the room.

Cyrus dropped my hand but followed me in. I closed my eyes and cast the last spell I would for a while. It was the magic I usually cast at the end of the night, changing my throne room into a bedroom. Gone were the two facing couches, and in their places was my large, lush bed. It took up most of the space. I turned to see Cyrus watching me with a strange, almost wistful look. What was that about? Weren’t we both about to get what we wanted?

I decided to ignore it, and with a sexy grin I reached behind me to the zipper of my dress, sliding it all the way down. He didn’t move. I went to slip the dress off my shoulders, letting it fall into