“No pithy reply?”
“Are you always an asshole when someone saves your life?”
“I have several high-ranking sources who would say yes.”
“Then it’s a wonder anyone bothers.”
“On that note, you’re sort of a wee thing. How the hell did you drag me back to your apartment?”
Siobhan made a disgusted noise. “I made a dead troll vanish into thin air. Why in Hecate’s name would I have to drag your sorry ass anywhere?”
“I’m guessing you didn’t cut my heart out and make a blood circle to move me.”
The bed sagged, and he could sense her drawing nearer. In spite of the raging migraine threatening to set up shop and never leave his head—and he was definitely helping that by talking as much as he was—he still felt his pulse trip when she bent over him. She smelled unlike any other woman he’d known, a heady aroma of spice and danger. Girls like this were, well…he didn’t know many girls like this.
“You’re an unusual man, aren’t you, Shane Hewitt?”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He blinked in her general direction and frowned. “Wait, how the fuck did you know my last name? Are you a psychic or some shit?” Oh God, had he been thinking anything unwholesome? No. But now he was thinking about her boobs. Oh, Jesus, and her ass. And now he was thinking about peeling off all those layers of tight black clothing and seeing how much of her skin was covered in the freckles that colored her cheeks. “Oh, crap, okay look I’m sorry for the thing about your boobs—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m not psychic, you moron. I looked at your wallet while you were passed out.”
“Oh.”
“What were you going to say about my boobs?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re worse at lying than you are at saying thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I turn the light on now?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Shane admitted.
“Well, I’d rather we not sit alone together in the dark while you think about my breasts.”
The lamp flicked back on, and Shane closed his eyes in response. It was almost the same as having a conversation in the dark only now his eyelids were glowing pink and he suspected he looked like an idiot.
Not that that was anything new to him.
“Look,” Siobhan said, “in spite of the part where you almost walked headfirst into your own untimely demise, you were sort of helpful tonight.”
“Thanks…I think?”
“You clearly know the general concepts of battle. I can tell you’ve been trained. There’s a reason I didn’t leave you out on the street.”
“Because you think I’m ruggedly handsome?”
“No.”
“Thanks,” he said again, this time his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Romance is an entanglement I don’t have the luxury of participating in, Mr. Hewitt. I apologize if I’ve offended you. I think you’re very attractive, but that’s entirely beside the point.”
“Oookaaay.”
“I need your help.”